Remember Your Friends
by blueglows
Summary: He meant to summon a demon but instead summoned a fellow nation. They became friends for a short, but wonderful time. Now, years later, consequences for the demon summons have to be paid. Russia/OC!Wales
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Remember Your Friends

**Rating:** T (PG13)

**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** The UK brothers (includes Ireland), Russia, America – Russia/OC!Wales  
><strong>Warning(s): <strong>Includes OCs (Wales, Scotland, Ireland, and Northern Ireland), some Adult themes, and Harry Potter references. Has a lack of any sort of accurate historical reference, with very few exceptions.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Hetalia is owned by Hidekazu Himaruya, but I created this story and these interpretations of England's brothers.

**Summary:** He meant to summon a demon but instead summoned a fellow nation. They became friends for a short, but wonderful time. Now, years later, consequences for the demon summons have to be paid. Russia/OC!Wales

**A/N:** There seems to be some interpretations of England's brothers (sometimes sisters) that are more popular than others. For Scotland in particular, there's that one in blue with the white cross over his chest. This is not the version I am using. I'll post a link in my profile to the image I'm basing my versions on, and I apologize in advance for everyone who will hate my version of these characters.

...

Part One

1

Wales pouted and kicked at the ground. Stupid Scotland! Stupid Ireland! Teaming up and insulting him just because they saw him hugging a sheep again... It wasn't his fault those animals were so cute! So soft and fluffy and huggable... He kicked again. Why couldn't that brat England be around? Then he, Scotland, and Ireland would have been able to make fun of their youngest brother instead of shifting the antics onto the "weakest one" of the older three.

He would show THEM. He had something big planned! Something that he had been studying and working on for a while now. He marched into his home and gave his little brother England a good kick to vent his own anger. "Out of my way, runt! I'm doing something important!"

England, the poor child, held back his tears and pulled the hood of his green cloak over his head and ran off. Wales glared after him but then sighed. He was getting too soft, or at least that's what Ireland would say. Still, he would have to do something to apologize... Maybe get something sweet for the youngest of their family later. Then again, maybe he wouldn't. England wasn't too little any more and he should learn to tough it out.

But first! He had something important to do in the basement... He lit a candle and carried a few more with him downstairs. He couldn't fully close the door behind him, but he wasn't expecting Scotland or Ireland to return home anytime soon and that kick should have told England to stay away.

He pulled out his wand and tapped it against the ground, muttering a few words so that a magic circle appeared to his preference. He lit the other candles one by one, setting each one an equal distance apart around the edge of the circle.

He pulled out his spell book and took a deep breath to focus and channel his energy. This would be a big spell... If he did it wrong, something horrible could happen... But he knew what he was doing. Of course he did! He was Wales, after all!

He held the first candle over his book and read aloud the words he had written down.

"Santorita Mitamaeda  
>Ringojonah Titomarlon<br>Jack Latoyajanet Michael  
>Dumbledorathe Explora..."<p>

The magic circle began to glow a bright turquoise. Everything was going well so far... Now he just needed to say the second half of the spell.

"Santra ba dra winza na  
>Wonpa to rana intrakantera<br>Santra ba dra winza na  
>Wonpa to rana intrakantera<br>I have summoned you from a far off place."

He shifted his hold on his book and threw out his hand towards the circle, moving his feet into a prepared stance. He shouted out his final call.

"Show yourself!"

A figure rose out of the ground slowly, eventually taking the form of a young boy. Once the figure was fully formed, Wales stared at him. The boy stared back. Neither of them spoke and Wales tried to figure out whether or not this was what he meant to do.

The boy didn't seem to be a demon like he was intending to summon, but perhaps he actually was. He didn't seem to be a regular human, after all. He looked younger than him, but he was about the same height. Were demons taller in comparison to humans? Or perhaps Wales was just short... The boy had light, almost greyish-blonde hair, eyes of a strange blue-violet color... He was in heavy clothing, probably due to the land he came from being very cold.

The boy decided to speak up first. "Vy nazvali?"

Wales, surprised and just now realizing he was in a ridiculous position, took a more normal pose. What did the boy say? It didn't sound like a language he recognized. "Beth wnaethoch chi ei ddweud?"

The boy looked confused, probably as equally as he was at the moment. He seemed to have come up with an idea and spoke again. "You are... your people's home?"

Wales nodded. "...You are as well?" Hmm. The nations's universal language. If this boy was the same as him, the lands of their people, then he must have had contact with other people like them before. This was a learned language, after all. But it would make the conversation easier.

The boy nodded vigorously, smiling and tugging at the scarf around his neck in excitement. "Da! I am Russia. You?"

"Wales." He smiled in response. "I hope I haven't bothered you by bringing you here."

"Nyet. I felt a tug and a question. 'Did I want to visit other place?' I thought, da! That would be fun! I was tugged here. And now I have Wales as company!" Russia giggled and looked at the circle and then at Wales. Once Wales stepped back, Russia took that as permission to step out of the circle. "It is lonely in my home. I don't have many friends. They always having to leave me. 'It's too cold' they complain. I fear General Winter does not like me. Or maybe he likes me too much. But I hardly see others like us. Too far away. I always have to go back as soon as I see them. But how do I get back now?"

Wales hesitated and then took a hold of Russia's gloved hands, both to comfort him and out of joy that he managed to successfully summon someone. "I can send you back. I brought you here, so I can send you back. But do you really want to leave right away? You just got here! You should stay, at least for a little while."

"Da?" Russia seemed amused. "But, why did Wales summon me here?"

"...Oh." Wales wasn't sure what to say. Should he tell him the reason...? He had been trying to summon a demon, after all, not a fellow nation. "I wanted to get back at my brothers. They were making fun of me earlier."

Russia frowned then and patted Wales on the head, almost condescendingly. "Siblings should not be so mean to each other. My older sister and younger sister would not like it if I were mean to them. You want help to show your brothers why they should not be mean, da?"

He remembered suddenly about how he had JUST kicked England for fun and looked away, ashamed. "N-No... It's fine. I don't want to bother you like that."

"Nyet. If that is why Wales had me visit, then that is what I will help with."

"No!" Wales winced at his sudden shout, but he had to make sure that nothing bad happened. Not while he felt guilty about it at least...

Russia tilted his head, curious about the protest. "Why not? Is that not what Wales called me here for?" Behind the curiosity, Russia looked surprisingly knowledgeable. As if... As if he knew that Wales wouldn't accept revenge.

Wales sighed. "I would be in the wrong if I did anything to them in retaliation. Besides, I feel bad now. I kicked my youngest brother on the way down here, so I probably should apologize to him. Isn't that the right thing to do?"

"Da." Russia nodded and giggled and then patted Wales on the head again. "But it is not the fun thing! You seem too nice to do something mean. Much too nice. The kind of nice that is manipulated. If you hurt them, they probably deserve it. Think of how fun it would be to see them in pain for hurting you! Are you sure you don't want me to help you hurt them?"

"I'm sure... Really, really sure." Wales sighed. "I'm sorry for calling over here for nothing. Would you like to see my home at least? Before I send you back?"

"Da." Russia took a hold of Wales's hand and gave it a tight squeeze. He began to drag him upstairs. "That way I get to see what lands will eventually become one with me."

Wales was too busy pulling out his wand and quickly muttering spells to put out the candles and erase the magic circle to hear what Russia had said. When he focused his attention on the boy again, Russia had stopped talking. "What did you say?"

"Nothing!" Russia chimed happily.

He decided to take his word for it and peeked ahead of Russia, outside the door and into the ground floor to make sure that no one was there. He determined that the coast was clear and pushed the door open wider, allowing room for Russia to drag him out into the open. This was starting to hurt...

"R-Russia, could you stop pulling me so hard?"

Russia frowned, but let go of Wales's hand. Wales frowned as well and grabbed Russia's hand again.

"I didn't say you had to let go," he replied with a warm smile. "Just be gentle. Alright?"

The boy stared for a moment and then smiled. "Da! Where do we go first?"

"Well... I believe the daffodils are in bloom if you want to see them..."

"Flowers?" Wales nodded and Russia giggled. "Da! Please!"

...

Sometime later, Wales sat next to Russia, staring out over the lake. "So, what do you think of my lands?"

"Wales is very nice," Russia said softly. "Too bad I must go back home soon."

Wales sighed and pouted. "Too bad. We haven't seen everything yet. And I haven't introduced you to Goch."

"One of your siblings...?"

"No... My pet." Wales smiled again and looked over at Russia. "But I can always summon you back here another time. The spell asks for your permission to come here, so if the summons doesn't work, then I'll know that you just are busy. It's actually nice to have a friend for once."

Russia looked at Wales, seeming surprised. "Wales has few friends as well?"

Wales blushed and looked away. "W-Well... Yes... I only have my brothers and the animals here, but... No other people like you to talk to. And I like you. True, you're a little strange, but it's endearing. Can we be friends?"

There was a giggle and Russia pulled Wales close. He unwrapped his scarf, the first time he did so all day, and then wrapped one end of it around Wales's neck. "Da! Friends! And then, one day, we can become one so we may have the same house and never have to be apart!"

Wales found himself giggling as well. "You're silly! I don't know what you mean by that, but it sounds fun!"

"Very fun! Wales will enjoy it." Russia yawned and nestled his head between his scarf and Wales's shoulder. "Mmm. Tired. Perhaps Wales should send me back home now? Just remember to summon me again so we may have more fun?"

"Of course, of course!" Wales giggled again and slipped out of the scarf, helping his new friend wrap it back around Russia's neck. "Sending you back will be a lot easier than summoning you. Do you want me to do it from here?"

"I will be sent to where I was before?" Russia smiled at Wales's nod. "Then, da! Do svidaniya, Wales! Summon me again, da?"

Wales grinned. "Yes! I will! Now, sit tight. This shouldn't hurt." He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Russia. "Ready? Revenis casae!"

With a loud pop, Russia was gone. Wales felt a little sad to see his new friend leave, but right now he had a few things he had to do. Hmm, he seemed to have a few coins on him and the shops should still be open...

He went off to do his chores and then returned home in time to cook dinner for him and his brothers. The other three came in, Scotland coming in with Ireland and England trailing a long ways behind them. Wales smiled at all of them which seemed to catch them all off guard.

"Whit has ye so happy?" Scotland gruffed out.

"Nothing in particular," Wales replied. He looked over at England and then crouched down in front of him. The youngest of his brothers flinched at first but then opened his eyes which were shut tight in expectance of pain. England looked up curiously and Wales patted his head gently. "I got you a small treat to apologize for earlier." He noted England's eyes widen in delight. "You can have it after dinner."

Behind Wales, Scotland and Ireland were giving each other an equally bemused look in regards to their brother's actions. They looked at Wales once more once he cleared his throat.

"As for you two..." Wales sprang forward, pulling both of them into a hug. "I forgive you for insulting me." He let go of them before they could overcome their shock and push him away. "Now, we should probably go eat. Ready for supper, everyone...?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I want to start by thanking everyone who put this story in their Alert. Please, stick with me through this, as I'm sure you'll enjoy it, despite the OCs. Read and review?

...

2

He had summoned Russia over a few times now and each time, Wales was always left feeling much happier and less willing to join Scotland and Ireland in beating up England. Not only that, but he was also more willing to forgive Scotland and Ireland when those two would make fun of him for becoming too soft. That left those two confused and since he was so nice to England now, his youngest brother seemed to like to cling to him.

Sure, he still messed with England to the point where he made him cry... It was fun, after all. But he always did something to make up for it. He wondered if it was too soon to start teaching him magic... The again, it probably was. Ireland was the second youngest and only now learning magic from Scotland. That was why the two were spending so much time together nowadays.

He finished his summons and was happy to see Russia standing there, smiling at him.

"You called?"

Wales giggled. "Of course I called, silly! Who else would it be?"

Russia stepped out of the circle and went with Wales, upstairs. Wales looked back for a moment to erase the circle and put out the candles, and then left the home with his friend. Wales held onto Russia's hand and led the boy down the path.

"This way! Goch is nearby today and I want you to see him!"

"Your pet?" Russia asked.

He nodded. "Yes! He's Y Ddraig Goch."

"What does that mean?" Russia seemed interested in the language, a fact that made Wales proud for the moment.

"It means, the Red Dragon," he answered. "You'll see what I mean. I hope he's still there." Wales giggled and skipped ahead for a moment, looking around and then waving as he found what he was looking for. "Goch! I brought someone here to meet you!"

The dragon, small and red, looked up at Wales and flew over, landing in his arms. Wales petted him and turned around, displaying the dragon to Russia. "This is Goch! What do you think of him?"

Russia smiled, seeming to be impressed. "Goch really is red! Small too. Unlike big and strong polar bears from my home."

Goch snorted out a bit of fire indignantly and crawled up Wales's chest to rest around his shoulders and neck. Wales smiled and patted his dragon before looking at Russia again. "Well, Goch can be much bigger if he wants to. But it's easier for him to go unnoticed if he's this size. But what is a polar bear? I've heard of other kinds of bears, but never a polar bear..."

Russia giggled and threw his arms up above his head, stretching out his body. "Polar bears are vicious creatures! Huge! Bigger than us! They have white fur and hide in snow, looking for prey! They tear with sharp teeth and pull apart with sharp claws! I once saw a man killed by polar bear. There was blood everywhere." He mimed the actions as he described them.

Wales felt a little sick for some reason, but he didn't want to upset Russia. "O-Oh... That sounds... Scary... I'm glad I won't run into one here."

"I wouldn't let Wales be hurt by polar bear," Russia replied, affirming his statement with a nod. "Polar bears know not to mess with Russia."

He smiled at that, feeling better. "Good. Thank you." He felt Goch squirm and claw at his back. "Ouch! Goch, what's wrong?"

Goch growled and nodded his head towards a rabbit that was sitting nearby, innocent and unaware of the hungry dragon resting on Wales's shoulders. Wales sighed. "It's fine. Go ahead and eat. Russia and I will leave you to that."

The dragon shot off after the rabbit, chasing it away into the nearby bushes. Wales and Russia watched until the two animals disappeared. Then, Wales turned to Russia and took his hand to lead him off again.

"Wales has siblings, da?" Russia asked as they walked down the path. "When may I meet them?"

Wales frowned a little in thought. "I'm not sure if I want you to... We're supposed to do what Scotland tells us to do, since he's the oldest, but he doesn't really trust other people. He might make me never see you again."

"Then Scotland is silly if he thinks he can stop me," Russia replied with a small giggle. "Everyone will live together with me in one home eventually. Then none of us will have to be alone."

He giggled as well and leaned into Russia's arm. "That would be nice. It's very lonely here at times. For me, at least, when you're not around. Ireland and Scotland spend a lot of time together so that Scotland can teach Ireland magic... And England spends as much time as he can annoying France and vice versa. As for me, I have the animals, and I have you. But it would be so nice to spend time with plenty others like us, right?"

"Da," Russia agreed. "And if others do not agree, I can make them change their mind..."

Wales frowned a little, recognizing a bit of a dark aura around Russia. "Hmm... Russia... Do YOU know magic?"

"Hmm?" He seemed surprised by the question. "Da. Some. But I do not think it's same as your magic. Wales says too many words when casting."

"Should I try wordless casting?" Wales asked. "That's supposed to be very difficult to do correctly. That would be great if I could figure out how to do it before Scotland gets the chance... Maybe I can even learn to do spells without a wand!"

Russia smiled and patted Wales head. "Wales is so cute, trying to be better than others! But, Wales forgets that he is weak right now. Practice first, and then we'll see if you can be good magic user."

Wales pouted and crossed his arms, but decided not to argue. Russia did have a point after all. He heard Russia giggle and looked up just in time to be pulled into a hug.

"Wales is so adorable! I like having Wales as a friend!"

He had to smile at that and nuzzled into Russia. "I like having you as a friend too. Now let me go. I just thought of a good place to take you!"

The two continued on their way, following Wales's directions. After a while of walking, Wales was bent over, hands on his knees, and taking deep breaths. Russia seemed no worse off than he was before, despite how heavy his clothes were.

"Sorry," Wales huffed out. "I forgot how far away it is..."

"Will Wales be alright?"

"I-I'll be fine," he insisted, righting his position. "I'd hate to say I'm taking you somewhere only to be too tired to take you the entire way. Come on, let's..." He trailed off for a moment, listening closely to the sounds around them. "Did you hear that?"

Russia looked confused but then listened. "Baa?" he repeated the noise.

Wales bit his lip for a moment, and then stepped off of the path. "I want to check it out... Do you mind waiting here for me...?"

"...Da?" Russia sounded unsure for once. He frowned at Wales. "Will Wales be alright?"

"Well..." He frowned as well. "Scotland told me it's safer to stay on paths... But these are my lands. I'm sure I'll be safe. You wait here, I'll be right back."

"Why can I not go with you...?"

Wales didn't know how to answer that. "Um... Well... If this is what I think it is, I rather it not be frightened by a stranger. Though, I'll bring her here to meet you, if it is her... Do you understand what I mean...?"

"...Nyet." Russia continued to frown but waved Wales off. "Be back soon or I will come find you."

"Right. Sorry about this. Thank you." Wales rushed away in the direction he heard the noise come from. That was a sheep! He was sure of it! And, if he recognized it correctly, that was the one he was hugging the day he first met Russia! What was her name again? Yvonne? Yes, that was it. He looked around. "Yvonne? Yvonne, is that you?"

There was another baa and a sheep walked up to Wales. He giggled happily and bent down to give her a hug. "Oh, it is you! Remember the other day when my brothers were making fun of me for hugging you like this? Well, because of that, I made a new friend! Isn't that great?"

The sheep baaed, seemingly in agreement. Wales smiled and patted her head gently. He knew that sheep weren't the mindless livestock other people thought they were! A person just needed to take the time to understand them. "What are you doing so far from home? Are you going on an adventure?"

"Baa." That was a no. "Baaa."

"Oh, you're doing a chore for England's fairies. Well, I won't get in the way of that. I was going to ask you to meet my friend, but I understand if you're busy." Wales hugged the sheep again and gave her a small kiss. "You're such a good sheep. I'll see you at home, alright?"

"Baa." The sheep wandered off then. Wales waved it good bye and then left to go back and meet up with Russia. He hoped he wasn't taking too long for him. He'd hate to make Russia upset.

However, he had to stop on his way back due to a strange sound coming from somewhere nearby him. This was definitely NOT a sheep. He needed to get back to Russia. Not because he was scared, of course, but because he was late... Just then, something caught onto his shoulder and he hesitantly turned to face it.

Some strange man was smiling at him. It didn't seem like one of his citizens... Or one of any of his brothers' citizens. "Are you lost, child?" He spoke English, it seemed, but it sounded deliberate, as if he didn't speak it well.

"N-No," Wales answered back, remembering to use the same language. "I know where I'm going. I'm meeting my friend at the path."

"I was just there and I saw no one there."

"Impossible." Wales had a bad feeling about this. Maybe this was why Scotland didn't trust strangers. "I told him to wait for me. I need to get back to him now." He tried walking away again, but the man caught his shoulder again. "S-Sir...?"

"I assure you. No one there. Maybe your friend left you behind? I can take you home. For some payment."

Wales frowned. "I have no money."

The man chuckled and started fingering Wales's hair. "Maybe you can pay in other ways..."

Alright, now he was scared. He did the only thing he could think to do in this situation. "Yvonne! Help me!" he screamed.

That caused the man to scowl and clamp a hand over Wales's mouth. Wales struggled but kept getting caught again. Technically, he should be able to get away from this man. He should be stronger than a human. But he didn't want to hurt the man, and it was harder to show his strength against someone who was not his citizen or when he was scared. He couldn't even get to his wand in this position.

Russia was right. He was weak. And stupid, apparently! Why did he call for a sheep when Russia should still be nearby? Unless the man was right and Russia left him behind... No! That was impossible!

The man managed to get him against the ground, probably to make his struggles less effective. He was crying by now. He should have stayed on the path like Scotland told him to... Now he was probably going to be killed! Or at least hurt badly...

"Wales? Where are you?"

Russia? He tried to scream again to draw his friend's attention, but the man seemed to guess his intentions and pressed his face against the ground. He was starting to have trouble breathing due to his panicked state. This wasn't good.

At that moment, Russia managed to stumble across the situation. He tilted his head, seeming innocent and curious in contrast to what was going on. "Sir? What are you doing to my friend?" When did Russia learn English?

The man smiled. "Just run along, child. Your friend will find you when I am done."

"Oh." Russia didn't budge. Instead, he stared at the man. "But, you seem to be hurting him. I do not like it when people hurt my friends."

The man didn't say a word, but Wales could feel the man's hold on him loosen.

"You should be letting him go now, da? Or I will have to hurt you as well." Wales could hardly glance up, but he was able to see the same dark aura from before surrounding Russia. "And you do not want to be hurt, da?"

The man pulled his hands away from Wales who then immediately shot up and rushed to crouch behind Russia in fear. The man held his stomach and groaned before looking up at Russia. "D-Demon child!" he cried. "Evil warlock!" He hurried away, in a panic.

Russia waved and smiled at the man as he ran away but then looked down at Wales, seeming to glare. "Wales let someone dirty his cute face," was all he said.

Wales's eyes watered at that and he began to sob and cling onto Russia in an attempt at comfort. Russia seemed even more annoyed and picked up the crying male and carried him back to the safety of the path. Once there, Russia sat down at the side of it and patted Wales back comfortingly until the tears stopped.

It was then that Wales realized that his friend had carried him a good distance despite being younger than him and that he was currently in said friend's lap. "Sorry..." he muttered, burying his face into Russia's shoulder, "You're right. I am weak. I need to get stronger..."

Russia continued to pat his back for a moment longer before pulling Wales away from him so that they would be able to look at each other. "How does Wales know my name?"

"Y-Your name...?" Wales was confused by that question. Russia's name was Russia and Russia had told him that, right?

"My human name," Russia explained.

Wales continued to look confused.

"Ivan?" was the offer at further explanation.

"Yvonne?" Wales repeated. "That's your name? But that was the name of the sheep I was calling for!"

Russia took on a look of disbelief. "Wales called for a sheep instead of me?"

That caused Wales to blush and look away. "I was panicking..." He had to change the subject. "B-But Yvonne is a girl's name here! Do... Do you spell yours differently?"

Taking off a glove, Russia leaned over and tried not to disturb the person sitting in his lap. He began to trace out characters in the dirt of the path. Wales watched and was surprised by the letters. They looked nothing like the letters he was accustomed to! Russia put his glove back on after that and waited to hear Wales's response.

"I don't think we use the same alphabet," Wales giggled, slightly nervous.

"Da," Russia agreed. "I have seen your writing. Very different."

Wales stared at the letters again and the looked at Russia. "Well... Since I now know your name is Yvonne, may I call you that? Around humans, of course, if you don't want me calling you that in private."

"Da. If you tell me your name."

He smiled. "It's Gavin. Nice to meet you, Yvonne."

"Priyatno poznakomit'sya, Gavin," Russia smiled back in response.

Wales giggled and leaned into Russia's chest. It felt rather nice, being in his friend's big, strong arms... He placed his face into Russia's soft scarf and stayed there for a moment before he suddenly remembered something. "Russia...?" he glanced up, trying his best not to seem nervous. "What was it that you did to that man back there?"

That caused Russia to frown for a moment his smile quickly returned, along with the dark aura that seemed to be plaguing him. He patted Wales head and giggled. "He was hurting Wales, so I hurt him as well. I stare at him and think of how fun it is for him to be in pain. Then, he is in pain. What did Wales call it earlier? Wordless casting?"

"But that... That wasn't the type of casting I was talking about..." Wales frowned and tilted his head, partly in curiosity and partly in worry. "Russia, were you cursing him?"

"Hmm. Da. I suppose."

"O-Oh..." He wasn't sure how to feel about that. Scotland had always told him that cursing others was the worst thing a person could do with magic. But... Russia had saved him by using a curse... Maybe Scotland was wrong and curses weren't so bad? He wanted to find out... There was obviously more to it than he thought, and if Russia knew how to curse others... "Will you teach me?"

Russia blinked a few times, seeming to be in surprise. "Wales wishes to learn?"

"Well... Yes..." Wales tried not to blush. "I mean, you seem to know what you're doing, right? And it could be useful so that I don't have to be so weak all the time..."

The violet-eyed nation giggled and squeezed Wales close to him. "I will think about it, da? Figure out how to teach you. What does Wales already know?"

Wales smiled and rest his head on Russia's shoulder. "I'm good at summoning things. I've made up all of my summons spells on my own and the only one that didn't summon what I thought it would was the one that brings you here."

"Oh? What was Wales trying to summon...?"

He frowned but tried to hide it. "Um... A... A demon... I suppose I should be thankful that it called you instead. Though, I sometimes wonder why it did..."

Russia didn't answer that and instead held Wales tighter. Wales looked at his friend in confusion but then smiled and kissed the other boy's cheek.

"Thank you for saving me, Russia." He giggled. "You're my hero."

"Hero...?" Russia asked, suspiciously. "You are thinking that I am hero?"

"Of course! You did save me, after all. Who knows what that man would have done if you hadn't shown up?"

"I was only protecting what is mine..."

Wales raised his brow, which happened to be much larger than the other male's now that he thought about it. "Yours?" he asked.

"Da. ...Ah. My friend. Mine." Russia smiled brightly. "Comrade?" he continued to offer.

He giggled and nodded. "Right, right. I like you a lot, too. Too bad we don't live closer to each other."

Russia giggled as well and nuzzled Wales. "One day we will be able to see each other every day, Comrade! Everybody will be together in one home and we can share our room and be the closest of them all!"

Wales smiled. "That sounds great!" He looked up at the sky then and gasped once he noticed how low the sun was getting. "Oh! I need to get home! I still need to make supper for my brothers! I'm so sorry, Russia. I didn't get to take you to that place I wanted to..."

"Comrade can take me another day," Russia answered, standing up and continuing to carry Wales. He started to walk back to Wales's home.

"Russia!" Wales laughed. "I can walk on my own!"

"Nyet! Comrade might get hurt again! I will carry you!"

He laughed again. "Alright! Thank you, Russia!"

After they got back to Wales's home, Wales kissed Russia's cheek again and sent him home. He started to cook and was surprised to see Scotland come inside without Ireland tagging along. "Hello Scotland," Wales greeted. "Did you lose Eire somewhere?"

Scotland glared. "Naw. The lad's outside watchin' over a wild unicorn. It seems tae be sick but A cannae figure out why."

"Oh... Maybe I could look at it?"

"That's whit A came in fer."

Wales nodded and left Scotland to the cooking while he went to inspect the unicorn. Ireland waved him over and Wales looked at the mythical animal. It wasn't quite a pure white like most unicorns were; it was a little greyer than that. Wales could tell just by glancing at its eyes that it wasn't feeling well. "Oh, what's wrong? Not much can make a unicorn sick... They're known for healing, after all..." Wales kept a hand on the unicorn's side and walked around, in order to let it know where he was and keep it from getting frightened. After some examination, he frowned and looked up at the unicorn. It was currently focused on being petted by Ireland. "Eire?"

"Aye?"

"Go tell Scotland to get a restorative potion. The angel hair one. Alright?"

Ireland nodded and ran off. Wales watched him leave and then went back around to the front of the unicorn. "Oh, you poor thing... Your stomach hurts? How was that caused...? Did someone hurt you purposely?"

The unicorn whinnied and pressed the side of its head against Wales. He patted the creature in order to comfort it. Unicorns were pure and defenseless creatures. It was a crime in the wizarding world to hurt them. Whoever caused this one to be distressed would be in trouble.

The unicorn nibbled at Wales hair and he froze suddenly. He glanced into the eyes of the animal again. He recognized those eyes. They reminded him of the man from earlier...

Maybe unicorns weren't as pure as he had thought.

"Wales?" Scotland walked up to him, carrying the potion he was asked for. "Whit's wrong wit him?" His older brother actually sounded worried about this thing. Wales smiled and tried not to show his discomfort.

"N-Nothing major," he answered nervously. "Just feed it the potion and it'll be fine. I'll be inside." Wales tried to hurry away but Scotland caught his shoulder and he flinched.

Scotland frowned at him but let him go. "Is somethin' botherin' ye?"

"No." Wales said that almost too quickly. He had to watch himself. "But you left Ireland inside with the food. Who knows what he's doing to it? I better get inside, alright?"

"...Aye. Alright."

Wales hurried away. He had to get away from that unicorn. He didn't understand! Unicorns were supposed to be innocent creatures! Maybe... Maybe he was mistaken and the similarity in eyes were just a coincidence? Yes, that was it. ...He should probably do more research first, just in case... But first... "Ireland! Get out of that soup right now!"

"Aw...!"


	3. Chapter 3

3

It had been a few months since Wales was saved by Russia. During that time, Wales had done his research and discovered that certain unicorns could shape-shift and most of the wild ones were perverts. Aside from that, he also discovered the wonder of curses and hexes. He had already made quite a few on his own, and better yet, they actually worked! He hid his progress from his family but delighted in sharing it with Russia. The other boy taught him more about cursing and Wales in turn helped Russia learn how to make curses not affect him. Wales even learned how to cast spells without speaking and without his wand! Of course, they weren't as powerful that way just yet, but he was practicing. Everything was going well in his magical progress...

His relationship with Russia was blooming as well. He didn't know Russia on a political level, which made it easier for them to have a non-political relationship. They were truly friends, not just faking it for their people. There were plenty of hugs and shy kisses on the cheek. Everything was bliss.

Well... Except for the fact that he caught England following him around a few times before. He didn't know why his little brother was doing that, but luckily he didn't seem to have found out about Russia or Wales's hexes and curses. Or, if England did know, he had enough sense not to tell Scotland or Ireland about it. Wales only ever practiced his curses on Russia, since Russia was learning how to counteract them, but he didn't want his little brother learning them and trying to cast them on other people or even the poor animals.

Oh well, it wasn't like England knew how to use magic yet. He'd have time to teach him the proper moment to use curses in the future. And, he had also asked Russia to stop England should he try to use any curses inappropriately. But, for now, he was focusing on his friend.

"Comrade is getting very strong," Russia giggled. "I almost cried with that curse. But Russia is stronger! Da?"

Wales giggled as well. "It's amazing that you can make curses and hexes not affect you! I call that one my Curse of the Leek. I don't know why, I just like leeks."

Russia pulled Wales into a hug. Wales didn't know why the action was made so suddenly, but he hugged back and smiled. Russia smiled back. "Where does Comrade keep notes on his curses?"

"Oh, I have them hidden," Wales answered, nuzzling into his friend's scarf. "I don't want anyone finding them and using them improperly. Ireland and England might try if they found them... Scotland would just get mad at me... And I certainly don't want humans to find them."

"Comrade is smart," Russia nodded. "But when do I get to meet your brothers?"

"I... I don't know..." Wales frowned in concern. "I'm still worried about what Scotland might think... If we can't get him to like you right away, he might forbid me from seeing you."

"Ah, but that's not very nice of Scotland," Russia answered. "To be judging and then to not be allowing others to see their friends. Scotland is silly if he thinks he can stop me from seeing you."

Wales smiled softly. "You said that before... But I'm not supposed to use summons like this, which is why Scotland might get mad at me. Then I won't be able to call you over here anymore. And, if Scotland doesn't like you, he'll do everything he can to prevent you from ever coming here again."

Russia continued to smile and held Wales close. "Scotland is silly if he thinks he can stop me." He noticed that Wales looked unsure and then patted his head. "And if Scotland tries anything, we can curse him! Together, da?"

"I... I can't," Wales muttered. "Not unless I was using it in defense."

"But that would be using it in defense, da?" Russia asked. He nearly frowned at Wales's continuing hesitation. However, he did sigh. "Comrade Gavin, you will never be strong if you will not use your powers!"

"I'm sorry, Yvonne..." Wales continued to mutter timidly. "But he's my brother... I don't want to hurt him." Sure, he sometimes DID want to hurt his brother, but he always got over it before he actually caused any harm. But if he were to use a curse, who would know if Scotland would be able to deflect it before serious damage was caused? Not all of them were simple crying hexes like the misnomer Curse of the Leek. "Why don't I show you my work with curses?" Anything to get off the subject of his brothers.

Russia giggled and nodded. "Da. That would be good."

Wales smiled and took Russia's hand, leading him away. "I know you can't read my writing, but I think you'll like my work anyway. Rwy'n dy garu di. I would have Goch protecting it, since dragons are good for that, but I really don't want to bother him and the others know how to get around him anyway."

"What did Comrade say?" Russia interrupted.

"Oh, about Goch?"

"Nyet. Before that."

Wales blushed and didn't answer right away. "...Rwy'n dy garu di."

Russia frowned. "And what does that mean...?"

...I love you."

"...Я люблю тебя тоже." Russia pulled Wales into another hug but this time kissed his lips. "I love you too."

Covering his mouth with both hands, Wales looked at Russia in surprise, but with a sparkle of happiness shining in his eyes. He finally removed his hands, smiling, and then laid his forehead on Russia's chest. "I'm glad..."

Russia took the opportunity to kiss the top of Wales's head. "And that is why Scotland cannot keep me from you, da? Now, let's go see your work?"

"O-Okay...!" Wales giggled and led Russia off again.

...

They got to Wales's room and Wales pulled out from his hiding spot a box holding all of his books and papers on the subject of curses. It was dark magic, according to Scotland, but Scotland didn't know. Wales tried his best to explain the more interesting parts of his work as briefly as possible so that he could keep Russia's attention. However, he seemed to be losing Russia's attention regardless. The other boy kept slinking closer and closer. Once he was near enough, he pulled Wales into his lap with one quick motion and held him close.

"Gavin will become one with me, da...?"

Wales blinked a few times and tried to turn to get a better look at Russia, but Russia continued to hold Wales's back to his chest. He frowned in confusion. "What do you mean by that, Yvonne?"

"Become one with me," Russia said again. "Get close."

"But..." Wales knitted his brows together. "But we are close..."

"Closer..." Russia whispered. His gloved hand slipped up to pet Wales head and then slipped around front, accidentally catching Wales's eyebrows.

"Y-Yvonne...!" Wales squeaked out, a blush coating his face.

Russia made an "hmm" noise and then repeated the action. Wales squeaked again and knew instantly that Russia was enjoying the sound he was making. Russia was about to pet his eyebrows again but stopped when they heard a door slam and someone shout out "Wales!"

Wales gasped and quickly pulled away from Russia, scrambling to put away his work. Why did he let it get all over the place? Scotland would be in his room any minute!

Too late! He heard the door unlock and slam open and looked up to see Scotland glaring down at him, Ireland and England hiding behind him in an attempt to see what was going on. The eldest of the brothers glared at the two youngest next and they hurried away.

Russia smiled at Scotland, seeming to not recognize the angry expression. "Hello! You must be Comrade Wales's brother! I am Russia!"

Scotland scowled at Russia and then looked to Wales. "And how did ye git him here, lad?"

"I... I asked him to come over..." Wales answered, trying subtly to hide his papers behind his back.

"Wales, whit hae ye there?" Scotland's tone made it apparent that he already knew. When Wales refused to answer or show his work, Scotland marched in, making his way towards Wales. The younger of the two brothers backed away. Russia suddenly got up to stand between Wales and Scotland.

"Scotland should not be scaring Comrade Wales, da?" Russia seemed to have that same dark aura from before. Scotland's eyes fired up at the sight of it.

"'Comrade', hu?" he challenged. "Hae ye been trickin' me younger brother, ye devil? Makin' him think yer friends?"

"It isn't nice to call names," Russia replied.

"Ye didnae answer naw," Scotland pointed out. "Step aside, devil. A need tae right me brother."

Russia didn't seem happy. "Nyet. You will only scare him. I will not be happy if Comrade is scared."

"Move or A'll make ye!" Scotland pulled out his wand. Russia's aura got darker.

"Try." Russia chimed. "I don't think you can."

Scotland flicked his wand. "Finite Incantatum." The dark aura around Russia disappeared suddenly. Russia was surprised by this and was about to move forward to attack Scotland physically, but the older male called out another spell. "Immobulus."

Russia stopped in his tracks, unable to move though he seemed to be trying. Wales gasped. He had never practiced that spell on Russia, so he was unsure if he would be able to counteract it. Russia started to move again, though it was slow, surprising Scotland. However, Scotland didn't let it affect him and said one more spell.

"Obliviate."

"Yvonne!" Wales cried out, knowing exactly what that spell was for. Memory erasing... Wales had a sinking feeling he knew what memories Scotland was erasing as well. Unfortunately, that wasn't the last spell Scotland cast.

"Stupefy."

If Russia remembered how to counteract spells, he wasn't given the chance to try and promptly collapsed onto the floor, totally unconscious. Scotland looked up at Wales and then motioned to Russia.

"Send him home now. If ye don't, yer punishment will be worse."

"Why?" Wales cried. "What did he do wrong?"

"Ye dunderheid!" Scotland shouted. "He's a demon of a nation! Has he not told ye about what he does to other nations? He is evil! That's why this spell..." Scotland scooped up a page that Wales missed in his scramble. "This demon summons ye made! That's why it's able to call him up! Has he asked ye tae become one wit him yet? Do you know what he means by that? He wants to take over yer lands! Make you a servant in his house! Are ye too daft to figure that oot?"

"B-But...!" Wales tried to argue.

"And whit aboot these?" Scotland continued, dragging Wales up and pulling his work away from him. "A told ye that this is dark magic! Do ye really want tae be cast tae hell? Did he convince ye tae start this up? Look! Ye have one aboot killing! One for torture! And this one, tae control a person completely? Are ye oot of yer mind?"

"I-I never used them!" Wales was on the verge of tears. "It just made sense to make them at the time! Russia had said..."

"Said whit?" Scotland demanded. "Why cannae ye see that he's nae good fer ye?"

Wales started to cry and pulled out his wand. "Revenis casae!" he cast on Russia, and then his fallen friend disappeared for good. Why did Scotland make him do that? He loved Russia... And Russia loved him! Scotland couldn't be right about him being evil! Not at all...

Scotland snatched up Wales's wand and proceeded to snap it in half. Wales cried harder and Scotland hit him on the head. "Stop that, ye brat! It's whit ye deserve! We'll get ye a new one if ye ever prove yerself responsible wit magic, but until then, ye are not allowed to use anyone's wand for any type of magic! Now, give me everything ye hae aboot dark magic. If A find ye hiding anything, A'll beat ye til ye get the point."

With that, everything Wales had relating to curses, hexes, and summons were gathered in their original box, except now in Scotland's hands and about to be disposed of for good. Scotland stormed out of the room, past Ireland and England who were watching with wide eyes. Ireland followed after Scotland and England stayed behind to watch Wales, but he quickly ran off once his second oldest brother glared at him.

Wales got up and wandered out his room and somehow found his way to a window with a perfect view of the bonfire Scotland started up. Ireland was helping to maintain the fire. He would hand a few pages or a book or two at a time to Scotland who held them over the fire until they caught flame and then dropped them in. All his hard work was gone... His wand... The one he loved...

But... There had to be something he could do. This was Scotland and Ireland's fault to start with, considering they were the ones that made fun of him which made him summon Russia in the first place. There had to be something he could do...

He thought back to Russia and to the lessons he learned from him.

"Flare the tinder up, burn down with this pyre," he sang. He didn't know why he was singing, but it seemed to be helping.

"From corner to corner with that hellfire  
>Don't leave a single trace, with everything erase..." He stared at the flames as they licked up and burnt his hard work.<p>

"Burn down their souls, let them feel my ire."

He moved to hug himself, still staring at the fire, but now scowling and singing more passionately. If this was the only thing he could do, he would do it well.

"Flare the tinder up, burn down with this pyre  
>Heed my calling, answer my choir<br>Burn down those fools, that is what I proclaim  
>Cause their destruction with a crimson flame..."<p>

The flames picked up for a moment and burnt Scotland's hand. Scotland pulled his hand away and looked towards their home, at him. Wales held a blank look and turned away. He decided to start on his chores, since that was likely all he would be allowed to do for the next few years.

He sang the song over and over again as he worked.

...

**A/N: **The song Wales sings in this chapter is based on England's summoning song. I took the translation and reworked it in order to make it rhyme. If anyone wants to try singing it, be sure to send me the link!


	4. Chapter 4

Part Two

4

Strange... His eyes flickered open after a cold wind blew over him, waking him up. He seemed to be lying in the soft snow. He did not recall falling asleep outside. He tried to think of what was the last thing he remembered. It was of some voice, calling out his name. Not even his nation name, but his human name. He remembered there being some man in front of him, in a skirt, and the thought of him filled him with anger. He decided to think of the one who had said his name. It was a familiar voice, warm like sunshine yellow flowers, but panicked with worry at that instant. It was one that he felt the need to reassure, to protect. However, he couldn't recall to whom it belonged. The more he tried to remember, the more his head hurt. He frowned and sat up, holding his head in his hands.

His body ached, his mind felt like it was missing a good chunk of memories, and he was confused. He was cold and for some reason felt lonely. He normally didn't feel lonely. Or... Or did he? He hardly ever encountered other people like him, except for a few such as his sisters, but he never felt at home with them. He used to feel lonely a lot. But then... He stopped feeling so lonely for a while, but he couldn't recall why. So, why was he alone now...?

"Big brother!"

He felt a weight land on his shoulders and he winced. "Hello, Belarus. How are you?"

Belarus, his little sister, held him tightly to the point where it almost hurt. "Big brother, where were you? You have been gone for hours again! Why do you always leave me?"

"Gone...?" Russia frowned. "I do not remember being away..."

"You were gone again!" Belarus insisted. She stood up and dragged up her taller brother with her. "But now that you're back, can we get married now?"

Russia laughed, though he tried to mask the nervousness of it. His little sister had been asking that a lot lately. It was now starting to be less funny and more worrisome. "You can't get married yet, Belarus. You are too young."

Belarus pouted. "When I am older, may we get married?"

"...We shall see?" Russia tried to smile, not wanting to upset his sister by saying no, but being afraid of what might happen if she continued to ask such awkward questions. It wasn't like he wanted to marry her. After all, he had someone in mind to marry.

...Or did he? His head was starting to hurt again and he frowned, reaching up to his forehead to rub it.

Belarus looked up at Russia and frowned. "Big brother, are you not feeling well? Come, I will take you home and take care of you. Just like I will when I am your wife."

Russia ached too much to argue and let Belarus take his hand and lead him away. ...Why was even this action reminding him of something that he could not remember? What had happened to him before he woke up just a few moments ago...?

Soon, he was home with his sisters though he had decided not to talk to either of them. Ukraine, his older sister, had been doting for a moment, pointing out how cold he was and insisting that he sit in front of the fire until he warmed up. Belarus suggested that they share body heat and save the fire wood for when they needed it. Russia ignored both of them and contented himself to sit in the corner, head in his hands, trying to figure out what he had forgotten.

Ukraine started a fire despite Belarus's argument and Russia somehow found himself sitting in front of it, staring at the flames. Belarus tried to sit with him, but she seemed to get annoyed with his unresponsiveness and decided to leave him alone for once. He continued to stare into the fire and let his eyelids droop, considering sleeping in front of the warmth.

His eyes snapped open when he started to hear something.

Singing...? Why was he hearing singing...? Where was it coming from? The fire? And who was singing? ...It was that voice that called out his name earlier!

"Flare the tinder up, burn down with this pyre  
>From corner to corner with that hellfire<br>Don't leave a single trace, with everything erase  
>Burn down their souls, let them feel my ire<br>Flare the tinder up, burn down with this pyre  
>Heed my calling, answer my choir<br>Burn down those fools, that is what I proclaim  
>Cause their destruction with a crimson flame..."<p>

That was it... Comrade Gavin... That was the name of the person. He remembered now! Well, he remembered some. He remembered what they looked like, at least. He remembered how he loved this person...! How Comrade Gavin was adept at something... What was it? Oh, yes... Magic. Curses and the like. But Comrade Gavin was weak and Russia was supposed to protect him and teach him to be stronger. He was supposed to teach him to use his curses, considering how powerful they were. Comrade Gavin could have helped him take over more lands with their combined magic!

But, what had happened to him...? Where was Comrade Gavin now...?

The song made him remember and it made him feel like his loved one was still out there somewhere, waiting to be found. He could only hope that the song was a spell to harm whoever had separated them.

He had to find Comrade Gavin, somehow. No matter what, he would find him eventually. Regardless of how many lands he would have to travel, how many people he would have to go through, he HAD to find Comrade Gavin.

After all, that was what he promised, wasn't it?

...

Years passed and Russia started to hear the song less and less. That worried him, because he was afraid he might forget about Comrade Gavin, or worse, that it meant Comrade Gavin could no longer be found. But he didn't want to give up. He couldn't. He figured that there must be some way to remember.

And that's when he turned to the Baltics.

Estonia had Comrade Gavin's hair color and was not as afraid of him as the others, being the closest to Comrade Gavin in confidence.

Lithuania had Comrade Gavin's hair length and eye color and was closest in personality to Comrade Gavin, so Russia liked him the most.

Latvia had Comrade Gavin's hair color as well, along with the height Russia remembered Comrade Gavin being. He made sure Latvia stayed this height by pushing down on his head every day.

He loved it when all three of them came crawling back to him for help because it reminded him of how he was Comrade Gavin's "hero."

But none of them WERE Comrade Gavin... And that upset him the most.

...

**A/N:** A little shorter than the previous chapters, but we're in the start of Part Two of this story! Looking ahead, all chapters in Part Two will be a tad on the short side, but they'll get longer again come Part Three, don't worry. Also, I want to thank **anythingbutplain** for reviewing! Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

5

The time was World War II. He and the other Allies were on some warm, tropical island. It was a nice break from the war, though the Axis nations were on the island as well and stupid America insisted on attacking them at regular intervals. America should just learn to relax and take this as vacation time, yes?

Right now there were around a fire, eating something America brought with him. Marshmallows... A little too sweet for him, but if it got the American to shut up for a moment, he'd take it. However, now that America was quiet, someone else was speaking.

No... Not speaking... Singing... What was England doing...?

"Flare the tinder up, burn down with this pyre..."

No... It couldn't be... Comrade Gavin's song!

"From corner to corner with that hellfire..."

But Russia knew that little England was not Comrade Gavin! Not at all!

"Don't leave a single trace, with everything erase..."

So then, where did little England hear that song? More importantly, how dare he sing Comrade Gavin's song? England should know better than to mock him like that!

"Burn down their souls, let them feel my ire..."

"I feel like we're summoning the devil!" America cried out, interrupting England's song. Ah, so it WAS possible for the American to be useful when talking.

England was now huffed up over that accusation. Russia felt it served England right. No one was to sing Comrade Gavin's song except Comrade Gavin. If England was going to break that rule, then Russia would not be friends with him.

...

Russia was back at home and busy at work. He paused when he felt a tug and heard something calling him over in the back of his mind. This seemed familiar, but what was it? Wait... Wasn't this what Comrade Gavin used to use to call him over...? He smiled and let himself be called up. Surprisingly, he stopped at his head instead of being formed fully. "You called?" he asked, as was his typical response from what he remembered. But something was wrong here.

England was staring at him, not Comrade Gavin. England was clearly shocked to see that he was the one to come up, even if he was just his head coming through the floor. This did not seem right at all.

Suddenly, England hurried forward and pushed his head back down. "I wasn't calling you!" he heard him yell.

Russia was pushed back to his home, a little disoriented but feeling even more upset that little England was using Comrade Gavin's spells again. And England wasn't even using them correctly! And it was rude of him to just push him back through the floor. He was planning on complaining more, but he then noticed that someone was screaming in another room. Little Latvia?

He followed the screams to the sound and peeked in on Latvia panicking over something while Estonia and Lithuania tried to calm him down.

"I went into Mister Russia's office and his head was missing!" Latvia screamed.

The other two looked disturbed by the statement, but slightly disbelieving. Russia sighed and walked in, bearing a smile on his face.

"Nyet, I still have my head, see?" Russia said, pointing to his head. The three Baltic States jumped in surprise and trembled under his gaze. "Little Latvia should not worry himself over things he imagined, da?"

"R-Right, Mister Russia," Lithuania agreed. "Don't worry, we'll help Latvia sort out dreams from reality. S-Sorry for disturbing you while you're supposed to be working."

"B-But I really did see-!" Estonia's hand clamped over Latvia's mouth before he could say anything else.

Russia smiled and then left the three to their own business. Perhaps he should visit England and set him straight about using Comrade Gavin spells.

...

Sometime later, he was traveling to go find little England, but somehow England found him first. He decided to deal with the shorter nation with a smile, hoping that it would work better to convince him to no longer use Comrade Gavin's spells if it seemed like a friendly request.

"Why do you insist on interrupting me all the time?" England was fuming. Russia found the accusation strange since he was the one called up by England. "Do you have some type of grudge against me?"

"No," Russia said quickly. He realized that he forgot to use a sarcastic tone and corrected himself. "Ahh... Wait a second. Yes, I do."

Little England pulled out a book (Russia almost wondered from where) and continued to whine at him. "But I don't care about your grudge! I won't let you interfere with my revenge!"

Clearly, this wasn't going as well as he would have hoped. Russia looked to the side and noticed that Japan was there, cooking some sort of meal. He stared at him, hoping than Japan would work as a suitable distraction from what England was shouting at him.

"Take this! Britannia Wales!"

...Wales?

"Curse of the Leek!"

Wait a moment... He knew that curse! He knew how to counteract it!

"Hey! You're supposed to be crying!"

It was a curse Comrade Gavin... No, a curse that WALES had made! Comrade Gavin was a fellow nation! He remembered more now! He remembered first being called up by Wales... The good times they had... Meeting Wales's dragon... Saving Wales from that strange man...

Japan bent over and held his stomach. "Ooh. My belly..."

Russia laughed lightly. Yes, he remembered using the curse that he just used on Japan on that strange man from years ago. That was what led Wales to make his own curses... Did little England know Wales...?

"Alright." He smiled, willing to find out more from the Englishman. "Ready to begin."

England chuckled, but it was obvious he was nervous. "That's some really spooky stuff there, chap!" He left before Russia could ask about Wales.

Well, that certainly wasn't good... Russia pulled his scarf over his face to hide his frown. How was he supposed to find out more about Comrade Wales now...?

...

**A/N:** So, my email tells me that Paint It, White has been shipped today. So I decided to celebrate by posting this chapter! I can't wait to watch the movie, since I haven't seen any bit of it yet. I'm sure it'll be great! Anyway... I want to thank **Aurora rose1001** for reviewing. And additional thanks to everyone who added this story to their alerts. Thank you!


	6. Chapter 6

6

Whenever the word "Wales" was mentioned, Russia was alert and ready to listen. He soon found that most people said "Wales" and actually meant "whales", so instead he paid more attention to the times England said it. That wasn't enough, since England didn't speak of Wales often. Russia was not ready to accept defeat and decided to do his own research on Comrade Wales.

The country was right next to England's. It was part of the United Kingdom, so Wales was likely England's older brother. He read up as much as he could on Wales, nearly obsessing with every detail he could find. None of it brought back any more memories than he already had... He had to try and talk to Wales himself...

One day, after noticing that England had grumbled about having to see his brothers, Russia followed, stalking after England and watching from afar until little England met up with his brothers. At that moment, Russia's attention turned to the other blonde nation standing with him.

Wales. Comrade Gavin.

He looked much like he remembered. He was taller now, but, of course, Russia was still taller than him. Wales still had that long, blonde hair. He still had those green eyes and good-natured smile. Except... Except, he looked very blank... The more he watched Comrade Wales, the more he realized how false that smile was. It wasn't forced, but it seemed to be something done out of habit rather than true joy. And his eyes were not the same lively peridots he remembered... No, they were now almost... Almost soulless...

Russia wondered what may have caused that change. Was it the same thing that made Comrade Wales stop singing to help him remember? Maybe he had given up on him... Well, he certainly wouldn't let that be. He started to step out from behind his hiding spot but caught the eyes of one of England's other brothers.

The harsh look, orange hair, and skirt... He remembered him now. He remembered it all. He was the one that made it so he couldn't see Wales anymore. Scotland...

"Kolkolkolkol..." Russia hadn't even realized right away that he was chanting, nor had he realized that he had at some point pulled out his pipe and was holding it eagerly. When he did realize, he didn't quite mind and continued to lock eyes with Scotland.

Scotland glared and mouthed something at him, a warning of some sort, before turning to his younger brothers and leading them away. Russia grudgingly stayed where he was and put away his pipe. He would have to get to Comrade Wales when Scotland wasn't around...

...

Wales was nothing like he remembered. Not only were the lands very different from when they were when they both were children, but the person was very different as well. Any shred of self-confidence that Wales may have once had was stripped away from him. He seemed to refuse to perform any type of magic and one of his other brothers always preformed spells for him. He did what his brothers told him to do and let them use him. He wasn't cheerful, he sounded bored and almost toneless as he spoke, and there was no way to compare him to the sunshine yellow daffodils that he remembered except by lying.

He figured this out after a few weeks of watching. A few weeks that were now wasted since this was clearly not the Wales he wanted to be with. Russia downed another shot of vodka, the liquid warming him up from his rather cold and bitter thoughts. He was now glad that Wales had enough sense to give up on him. If only he had taken that as a sign and had given up on Comrade Gavin. Then he wouldn't be so sad now. At least he had the Baltics waiting for him at home...

Oh... Wait... The Baltics were supposed to be a reminder of Comrade Gavin. A reminder of the past that he could no longer have again. Frowning, he reached for another shot of vodka.

"К про́шлому," he muttered before drinking the shot. To the past. He was too used to drinking vodka. He needed much more than this in order to get drunk. He wanted to forget Comrade Wales again. Being ignorant of what he lost was much better than knowing what he couldn't have.

Why did Wales have to sing that song the first time? He would have been much better off without it! He set aside the shot glass and reached for the bottle. Why did little England have to use Wales's spells on him? Then he wouldn't have realized how much Comrade Wales had changed! He didn't care if he was in public; he was drinking straight out of the bottle. ...Why did Scotland have to take his friend away from him? He wasn't even able to fulfill his promise of returning.

There was nothing to return to now. He was better off just drinking away the memories. He had to return back to his house after this... What was he going to do then? He could probably send the Baltics away, now that they weren't needed. He didn't want to remember. He finished the last of the bottle and slammed it down, staring at the counter and shivering.

But he didn't want to forget. ...That would be a problem, wouldn't it?

"Do ye need help gettin' home?"

"Hmm?" Russia glanced to the side at the orange-haired man who had addressed him.

"Do ye need help gettin' home?" the man repeated. "Ye jist drank a bottle o vodka... Yer not drivin' are ye?"

Silly humans and their silly worries. "Nyet. I shall walk home, da? And I am still fine. Vodka is only Russian water..." His wobbling legs as he stood said otherwise. Okay, maybe he had actually drunk more than just the one bottle. But he still had enough sense about him to make it back to his house from here. He was merely just a little tipsy... "Only Russian water..." he repeated. He realized then that there seemed to be no one there. ...Maybe he was drunker than he had previously thought. But he was sure he could get home.

He started to hum Wales's song on his way.

...

**A/N:** Thanks to **Aurora rose1001** and **koPieKing **for reviewing! And thanks to **koPieKing** for adding this story to their favorites!


	7. Chapter 7

Part Three

7

England's family had quite the magical background. Scotland was the best he had ever seen when fighting against the dark arts. Ireland and Northern Ireland were wonderful at charms and transfiguration. Wales... Well, no one spoke of Wales's magical ability. That was a private matter where no one was allowed to tread. As for his own magical ability, he had the misfortune of being the worst of his brothers at magic.

It wasn't like he couldn't cast spells and whatnot. He just wasn't up to his brothers' standards. Often times he would cast spells and get the wrong result or there would be less power behind it than he would have wanted. Sometimes nothing would happen at all, even if he cast the correct spell. He tried what he could to get better, but to no avail.

Of course, there were a few times when he was able to cast spells correctly... When he was using dark magic...

Scotland would certainly maim him if he found out. The Irelands would certainly join in after that. He hated to think what Wales might do... For those reasons, England made sure to keep his curse casting to a minimum. He only did enough to try and take down his enemies when he had enough of their crap.

Of course, it didn't help that he always seemed to be interrupted. His spell against Germany was cut short by stupid America... His next attempt called up Russia for some reason. Then, Russia was, for some reason, unaffected by the hex he tried to cast on him.

At least he knew that America wouldn't be able to stop a curse. England smirked as he dragged Bubsy's Chair to the meeting. Yes, that infamous chair that brought 61 people to their deaths would soon be the death of America!

"I can't believe I didn't think of cursing him like this sooner!" he laughed to himself. He looked up at the chair again and was now in shock. Russia? What was Russia doing there?

Russia smiled at him, almost condescendingly. He couldn't possible know that the chair was cursed, could he? "Oh, good morning England," he chimed. "You're here early today."

The chair started to flash a dark red and not even a moment later, it was obliterated into pieces. England stared, mouth agape unsophisticatedly. The chair was supposed to send anyone who sat in it to hell... Except Russia, it seemed...

But that didn't stop England. No, he was too stubborn for that. Not to mention, he was borrowing the chair from a museum and had to send it back eventually... He magically repaired what he could and taped up the rest. Now he just needed another place to try and use it.

He found that place when he and the other Allies were on an island yet again, attacking the Axis. After America called China down to take care of the Axis, England broke away from the group and stood in the water next to Bubsy's chair. The midnight hour helped to increase the dark blue aura of evil the chair gave off. He found himself chuckling in anticipation.

France was the first to speak. "That's Bubsy's chair..."

"I don't know what that means..." America sounded a little on edge for once.

China answered. "It's a chair that's been cursed..."

Everyone else seemed nervous about the situation. ...Wait, was Russia smiling? Ah, no matter. He would get through his speech if it killed him. After all the work he went through to bring the chair here...

"Correct," England smirked. "Does anyone here have the courage to sit down in this accursed chair...?"

"Ah, comfy!"

God dammit, Russia! England started flailing and spitting out protests, trying to get Russia out of the chair before it broke yet again. He knew he was too late when the red glow from before engulfed Bubsy's chair once more, sending its fragmented pieces into the air and water below. It would be more difficult to fix this time...

Needless to say, when he finally returned Bubsy's Chair to the museum, they were not happy with the condition it was in.

But there was something he didn't understand about Russia sitting in the chair that both times. It was clear that America was supposed to sit in the chair the first time, as it was in America's place at the table. Russia was supposed to have an even bigger grudge against America than he had on him so why did Russia let the chair break instead of let America sit in it? As for the second time, any one of the others could have sat in the chair and he was sure Russia would be happy to see any of them gone (except, maybe, China), and he had to have known for sure by then what would happen if he sat in that chair. So then, why did Russia continually choose to interrupt and stop his attempts at cursing the others?

Even if Russia didn't like him, surely he would be willing to put it aside in those scenarios... Perhaps something was up that he was unaware of. He would have to keep an eye on Russia from now on.

...

Keeping an eye on Russia turned out to be a very interesting process. It seemed that Russia would always deliberately get in the way of his curses whenever he had the chance. Russia also seemed to turn up in the background whenever England was with his family. Who knew? Maybe Russia was jealous that England had, more or less, saner siblings in comparison to Belarus. Of course, during the Cold War, Russia was no longer obsessed with England and his family and now distracted by his hate for America during that time rather than anyone else. England was glad for that, considering how scary the Russian could be. Sure, there were instances where they had some fall-outs, but most of the issues were between Russia and America.

Now, since it had been years since the Cold War, England no longer kept close watch on Russia, for the most part, nor did he think he needed to. Russia seemed to have lost whatever interest he had in him during World War II. He thought in jest that it may have been misplaced infatuation.

He would then shudder and dash away the thought as quickly as possible.

They were now at a G8 meeting in England's lands, and not getting any progress done at all. Everyone was there for once, even Canadia, though Russia would sometimes ask whether or not China was going to be there. France was his usual perverted self, America was stuffing his face with junk food that he managed to sneak in without Germany noticing, Italy was taking a nap and the rest of them were trying their best to get something accomplished.

There was a barely noticeable tap at the window which distracted England. He tried to ignore it, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed a flash of red. As subtly as he could, he wrote a quick note on a sheet of paper, using large letters so the darn thing could see them. He held it towards the window, now grateful that he had the seat closest to it.

"WAIT 'TIL LATER" read the note he tried to convey to the dragon. The dragon huffed indignantly, a puff of smoke coming out for extra effect, and then flew out of sight. England was pleased that the dragon listened for once and turned his attention back to the attempt at a meeting.

He immediately noticed the frown Russia was giving him though he had no idea what it was about.

...

"Goch? Goch where are you? You try and interrupt me at a meeting and then don't show up when I am actually available to talk... This is very-. Oh, there you are." England walked up to the bench and sat next to the dragon, patting him on the head. "Well, what is it then? Did Wales send you?"

The red dragon rolled onto his side and revealed a small box that was attached to his belly. England frowned and detached it, knowing exactly what was inside.

"You can tell Wales that I can make my own meals now," England told the dragon as he lifted the lid of the box. "I am capable of cooking for myself."

Goch rolled his eyes and snorted out smoke once more.

"Well, I am. Even if others find it inedible..." England sampled some of the meal. "At least I can see why he sends you with his food. You keep it warm." He held out the contents of the box for the dragon to take. It was fair payment for waiting so long to deliver it. Goch accepted and took a mouthful, swallowed it, and then flew off. England waited for the dragon to be out of sight and then picked around the area Goch had bitten, tossing it to the ground.

"Comrade England should not waste food, da?"

England was startled and almost dropped his things at the sudden voice. Damn that Russian, appearing out of nowhere like that. He regained his composure and looked at the larger nation. "Well, that small bit wouldn't have been good to eat... It's not like I wasting most of it."

Russia merely continued to smile. "It smells good, da? This means Comrade England couldn't have made it. Who did?"

He flattened his brow, choosing not to comment on the insult. "My older brother, most likely." England was worried for a moment that one of the Irelands made it, but if that were the case, Goch wouldn't have delivered it or eaten some of it... Not if there was a risk of a prank.

"Ah, but Comrade England has more than one older brother."

"...Yes, that is true. I suppose I could specify. Wales most likely made it." He waited for the question of "who is Wales?"

It never came and, instead, Russia sat on the bench next to England. It creaked a little and England suddenly felt a shiver, wondering idly if that rumor that Russia's body temperature was as cold as his winters was true.

"I think I would like to meet Comrade England's brothers..."

England frowned at that. "I'm not so sure... Scotland isn't fond of strangers and the Irelands would probably make you upset." Why was he being so open with the normally frightening nation? Now that he thought about it, Russia's gaze hadn't left him once since he snuck up on him.

"And Wales?" Russia asked, seeming like he was trying to coax something out of the smaller nation.

"Wales probably wouldn't care either way," England sighed.

Russia frowned. "Why is that...?"

"Well, he used to be so happy... He'd get depressed over something every now and then and stare at a fire for hours..." This wasn't right. Why couldn't he stop talking? "Something having to do with Scotland breaking his wand years back... I think it had to do with a demon? But he was still very happy, especially around his animal friends. But I remember that at one point, he went hysterical in the early 1700s."

Russia's gaze intensified and England kept blurting out more and more.

"It had to do with some curses Wales had invented being rediscovered by the magical community and causing so much destruction that they had to be outlawed. Wales was so panicked over how the curses were spread out, to the point where Scotland and Ireland had to sedate him immensely. He doesn't seem to remember much from before then, or at least doesn't like to talk about it, so we don't bring it up around him. But it also left him very emotionless, save for certain circumstances such as being around his animal friends."

"Oh." Russia said, looking away from England. "That is not very good at all. Thank you for letting me know."

"You're... You're welcome...?" England had no idea what else to say, though after that long explanation on private matters about his brother he didn't think he should really say anything else. Russia stood and walked away then and England looked down at his food. Oh, rubbish... It was cold now.

...

**A/N:** And here we are, now in Part Three! Now we get to see England's point of view on things... Thanks to **itachi-kun'slover**, **koPieKing**, and **Aurora rose1001** for reviewing! Additional thanks to **itachi-kun'slover **and **Reddragon568** for adding this story to their favorites. And thank you, everyone who added this story to their Story Alert!


	8. Chapter 8

8

He wasn't sure if he should be worried about what he had told Russia about Wales. After all, what interest could Russia possibly have in his older brother? Though, he was sure that Russia was using some type of magic on him in order to get him to talk. England occasionally glanced at Russia in worry throughout the latter portion of their meeting, but Russia was always aloof in some manner. Russia was frowning for the most part but would sometimes smile. It was obvious he was thinking about something, but England wouldn't dare ask what.

Luckily the meeting ended soon after that and the eight of them went their separate ways. England was half-tempted to follow Russia just to make sure he wasn't up to something but he decided to just let it go. Besides, he was supposed to meet up with his brothers after the meeting. They'd be upset if he showed up late...

However, when he got to the proper meeting place, Russia was already there. The larger nation seemed to be spying on England's brothers from behind a tree. England craned his neck to see what his brothers were doing. The Irelands were lazing about, Scotland seemed to be scowling over something, and Wales was playing his harp. He glanced to Russia and noticed that he was smiling softly.

"Do you enjoy harp music?" England asked, somewhat glad to see Russia jump at the question, "Wales is wonderful at it, isn't he?"

Russia settled down and stared at England for a moment before going back to watching the performance. "Hmm. Da, I suppose. I hadn't known that Comrade Wales could perform so beautifully..."

England nodded. "Our joke is that what Scotland gained in horrible, deafening bagpipe noise, Wales gained in astounding harp music. He picked it up in... I think the 18th century?"

"After the incident you have told me about?" Russia inferred, much to England's surprise.

"Ah. Well..." England chuckled nervously. "Yes, but we were happy to see him find something he enjoys. He really needed it after all."

Russia nodded. "Da, I understand... But... Does Comrade Wales ever sing?"

"Sing?" England repeated. "He can, but I don't think he has in a while... Why do you ask?"

"...Da." Russia gave England a smile and then hurried away, leaving England thoroughly confused. Something was going on and he wasn't sure what. Unfortunately, England had to go meet with his brothers before he could do anything about it.

...

Russia bringing up Wales's singing struck some note of familiarity in him. England thought about it once he was in private and then went to his library to search for the papers he copied down years ago. There was a song that he wanted to find the lyrics to. Sure, he knew them well enough, but he wanted to see the actual writing.

He couldn't remember where he had actually first heard the song. All he knew was that Wales made it up. It was strange to think about. Of his brothers, Wales was always the only one that was innocent. Even when Wales showed more emotion, he never stayed angry for long, always apologized after realizing he did something wrong... Even unicorns, Scotland's national animal, loved him the best. Yet Wales was the most ignorant of them. He was a great wizard, probably the most powerful he had ever seen, yet Wales didn't realize the evil potential his creations had until it was too late. Wales made so many hexes, demon summons, and even curses. He was careful to never let his spells be shown to others, and he never used them on people or animals. But, once the others found out what he was doing, Wales was punished and all the volumes of his work were burned to keep them from spreading. No one realized that "little brother England" happened to copy down what he could prior to Scotland burning the evil works. But, come to think of it, perhaps that WAS when he first heard the song.

Scotland was burning the pages of work in a large pile and Ireland helped by handing the work to Scotland one at a time. From inside their home, Wales watched, seeming forlorn yet otherwise emotionless. England was hiding near and listened to the song Wales was singing.

"Flare the tinder up, burn down with this pyre  
>From corner to corner with that hellfire<br>Don't leave a single trace, with everything erase  
>Burn down their souls, let them feel my ire<br>Flare the tinder up, burn down with this pyre  
>Heed my calling, answer my choir<br>Burn down those fools, that is what I proclaim  
>Cause their destruction with a crimson flame..."<p>

After he finished the second verse, the flames outside licked up, catching Scotland's hand. Their eldest brother pulled away for a moment and looked towards the house, seeming to mutter something before going back to controlling the fire to keep it from spreading. Wales turned away then to go back to his chores, still singing the song. That was the only time England had seen Wales wishing ill fate on others (except for the times where Wales helped beat him up but England didn't count those times since Wales always made it up to him after).

England hurried to write down the lyrics for later.

But, it was now years later, and England was thinking back on that song, wondering why it never worked as intended for him. It was supposed to be a curse, right? Or a demon summons? Then why is it that whenever he tired it or tried a variant of it, nothing happened?

"Burn, oh banquet of fire! Let the crimson flames rise..."

Nothing.

"Bring on the fire  
>Bring on the hell<br>Set everything ablaze so that no trace remains."

The only thing that happened was that America complained about him ruining his camping trip by trying to summon the devil. No, nothing ever worked for him. He only felt closest with the original song. Nothing quite had that air of intensity about it as the original song he heard Wales singing all those years ago.

He read through the lyrics and his random scribbles of theories along the side of the page. It was just one of many magic spells he stole from Wales, most of them the curses, hexes, and summons that England attempted to use on other nations. None of his brothers knew that he was using dark magic, or if they did, they also knew that he always seemed destined to fail at it. That, in a sense, was true, considering how he couldn't even get a simple song to work how it should.

...Or maybe he was wrong about what the song was supposed to do? Then what was its purpose? It wasn't like he could ask Wales to tell him! He wasn't sure if Wales even knew how to use magic anymore. Scotland had broken his wand years ago, claiming him to be too irresponsible to have it, and then Wales never got a new one...

The sound of a phone ringing interrupted his thoughts and he left to go answer it. No sooner than he first uttered the word "Hello" did he have to pull the receiver away.

"Hey Artie!" America shouted over the line. "Since we're stuck in your place for the weekend, Mattie and I decided to host a barbecue! Hope you don't mind, but we're using your backyard."

"What?" England scowled and peeked out the window, making sure that no silly North Americans were intruding on his property. "You will do no such thing! Use someone else's garden!"

"Aw, but we already called everyone and told them where to go! And Canada's out getting the stuff we need. Oh, hey, can we borrow your grill? Customs wouldn't let me bring one over."

"That monstrous thing you got me for Christmas?" England scoffed. "I would be even more glad to let you take it from me." He paused for a moment and thought over what he just said. "But don't think that means I'm letting you use my property for your barbecue!"

"Ha! Are you being... What does Japan call it? Tsundere? That totally means you're going to let us! Thanks Artie! See you in half an hour!"

"What? America that does not-!" Dial tone. England groaned and slammed the phone back down. He couldn't help but wonder just whom it was America and Canadia had invited over.

...

Everyone. Absolutely everyone. It wasn't even just the G8 members, it seemed to be practically everyone that was ever remotely nice to America or his brother was invited. His brothers were there as well, including Sealand though England had the feeling that Peter invited himself when Finland and Sweden decided to show up.

He didn't even want to know how America managed to set up flood lights so quickly in addition to tables, benches, and a sound system, of all things. Oh, he could only hope that no one was arrested by the end of this... Be it for being too loud, too rowdy, too drunk, or any combination of the three.

Sighing, he checked to make sure his brothers were too far away to hear him. The Irelands were already starting to drink and trying to get Scotland to join in. Wales was sitting still, legs together and hands on his knees. England glanced to the rest of the party and sang Wales's song under his breath. He stopped his gaze on Russia when he saw the larger nation giving him an indecipherable look.

"Hey Iggy! Thanks again for letting me have the party here." America saddled up to him and draped an arm over England's shoulders. "Mattie's in charge of making the food, so it better be good. You know no one's better at making burgers than I am, so hopefully Matt's are at least decent."

"I can hardly call that trash you eat edible, much less any good." England ducked away from America's arm and turned to glare at him. "And did you have to invite my brothers? I already saw them once today and have the bruises to prove it."

America furrowed his brow and pouted at the first comment. "You're one to talk," he muttered to himself. He smiled once again and shrugged. "Hey, I just thought it would be fun to see them all in one place again. Besides, I want to see what drinking contest everyone gets into."

England sighed. "A party full of drunks is the last thing I want in my garden, especially since I JUST planted some new flowers. You better keep everyone out of the garden beds."

"No problem. I'll get the designated drivers to take care of that." America flashed a thumbs up. "The hero always thinks of everything!"

"...Strange, I could have sworn that I was the one to just bring that up."

America didn't respond and instead looked around the party. "So. Which ones are your brothers again? Besides Sealand... Who invited him?"

"Perhaps Finland didn't want to leave him home alone again."

"Ah, whatever. We'll just make sure to give him soda or juice or something. But, yeah. Your brothers?"

England flattened his brow and motioned over to the four. "You should really know your uncles by now. The one in the kilt is Scotland..."

"You mean skirt, right?"

"It's a kilt! The other two red heads are Ireland and Northern Ireland, the latter being in lighter green than the other. And the one in the red jumper is Wales."

"That's the weird one with a fetish for sheep, isn't it?" America asked, seeming sincere about the question. England blushed and sputtered out an answer before he could finally say something.

"Don't be ridiculous! That was just a rumor! And don't insult him like that! He's the only one of my brothers I actually like."

America frowned and glanced over at Wales. "I can see why. He looks as boring as you do."

"Excuse me? I'll have you know, Wales taught me everything I know about magic." Well, in a sense that was true. England did first learn based on Wales's writings.

"Ha, well based on what I've seen growing up, you're not too good at magic." America grinned at England. "So I'm guessing Wales isn't that good either."

"Nyet. Comrade Wales is very good at magic." Russia somehow snuck up behind the two during their argument. "No one is better."

America pouted and shoved his hands his pockets. England shot a suspicious look at Russia. "But Wales hasn't preformed magic in years... And you don't even know him... How would you know if he is good at magic?"

"No one is better," Russia repeated, looking over at Wales who was starting to leave the party. "He was always so fun to play with..." He looked at Scotland next, with an innocent, yet angry glare.

England followed that gaze and watched as Scotland seemed to have been convinced to start drinking along with the Irelands and some other nations. He flattened his brow, just knowing that he would have to drag home a passed out Scotsman later in the evening.

"Uh, Iggy?" America tapped on his forehead, extremely close to his eyebrows. England waved the American's hand away and glared.

"What is it now America?" he snapped.

"Russia left."

"So? I thought you didn't like him."

America rolled his eyes. A condescending look from that idiot clearly meant something, though it varied between serious and silly. "Of course I don't like the Commie bastard. But I think he may be going after your brother. Whales, right?"

"What? For what reason?" England frowned, though he couldn't deny that Russia had seemed to have a strange interest in Wales lately.

"Most likely to 'become one with him', duh." America frowned. "He's probably going after the weakest of you UK guys first before moving on to the rest. Darnit, and I wanted to try some of the barbecue too... Now we have to go save your brother from the Commie."

"I'm sorry..." England raised his brow. "'We'?"

America rolled his eyes again and grabbed England by the wrist, dragging him around front. "Well, duh! I'm the hero so I HAVE to help out Whales. And you the only one of his brothers that's not getting drunk, so I'm taking you. You get to be my sidekick!"

"But-! America, wait-!" England bit his lip in nervousness. He couldn't deny that this would be an issue if something happened to Wales... "At least tell your brother what we're doing first."

...

**A/N:** And here we reach the part where America starts to get involved! Thanks to **Aurora rose1001** for reviewing!


	9. Chapter 9

9

They couldn't track down Russia easily and instead decided to search for Wales first in order to get him out of Russia's way. Luckily they found Wales with no scent of damage... He was in the midst of talking to some sheep.

America gave England a look. "Your brother is weird..."

England pushed him away and then went up to Wales. "Gavin...?"

Wales looked up and smiled softly. "Hello, Arthur. What brings you here?"

"Alfred and I... We wanted to check on you..." England watched Wales bend down and pat a sheep on the head. Wales whispered something to the sheep and it walked away.

By the time Wales stood up again, America was already there. Wales smiled and nodded at him in greeting. "You didn't have to leave your party to check on me. I'm quite alright."

America frowned and crossed his arms. "I don't know, dude... Have you seen Russia anywhere tonight?"

"No. I can't say that I have..." Wales tilted his head slightly. "Why do you ask?"

"The Commie was acting weird and talking about you. We were worried that he might try something."

"I can't imagine why." Wales chuckled, though it was lacking humor. "What business would he have with me? Arthur takes care of everything. If he wants something from the United Kingdom, Russia really should go to England."

America shook his head. "Nah, I pretty sure he doesn't want something from the UK. He wants something from you."

Wales frowned a little. "But what...? I never even met him before... Have I?" He looked over at England who shrugged in response. "So what could he possibly want from me...?"

"I'm not sure, Gavin..." England sighed. "But I'm afraid America might be right. I have noticed Russia's odd behavior concerning you."

The Welshman's frown deepened and he started to quiver but then something seemed to come over him and he soon relaxed, smiling at England and America again. "Well, I think I should go home then, hmm? I'm sure I'll be alright there." Before waiting for an answer, Wales started to walk away.

America raised his brow and looked at England. "What was that?"

"The sedation spell Scotland and Ireland put on Wales a few centuries ago..." England sighed and shook his head. "It suppresses his emotions and memories so that he doesn't become hysterical again."

"Oh..." America frowned and watched Wales leave. "So, what do we do now? Russia might still be after him but I wanted to get back to the barbecue..."

England frowned. "You and your insatiable hunger! Go ahead and leave! I'll follow after Wales." He snorted and began to follow after his brother. "I know him better than you anyway."

He was stopped when America caught him on the shoulder. "Wait... Iggy... Let me come with you..."

"A-America..." England blushed lightly. He hoped it wasn't noticeable in the dark.

"You'd be crap in a fight against Russia. Obviously someone strong needs to go with you."

"What? Wanker!" He smacked America's hand away and stormed after Wales. "Hurry up and follow! Before we lose him..."

...

England noticed that Wales seemed to be slowing down his pace. He wondered why but found out when his older brother stopped and turned to wave at him. America was surprised just as much as he was. So much for staying out of sight... They went up to Wales who silently began walking again, leading America and England along.

"So you have no idea why Russia is interested in you?" America asked for the umpteenth time.

"No idea," Wales answered yet again with God-given patience.

"Are you sure?" America frowned. "I don't normally see Russia going after countries no one has ever heard of..."

England had to resist the urge to smack America, but Wales's smile helped dismiss it. "If no one has heard of them..." Wales began to ask, "Then how would you have seen Russia going after them?"

"I guess I couldn't..."

"Then..." England knew where this was going. Wales was going to point out that people HAVE heard of him. "Then I suppose that means you haven't been able to save those countries from Russia, have you?"

The shocked look on America's face was priceless and England almost missed it from his own surprise. Wales couldn't possibly have meant to insult America like that, could he? The lad seemed to be worried about what countries he wasn't able to be the hero for.

Luckily, or perhaps unfortunately, America soon recovered with added zeal and ambition to save those unseen nations. He patted Wales shoulder. "But don't worry Whales! I'll do you the honor of being _your_ hero first!"

"How sweet..." It was hard to tell if Wales was being sincere or sarcastic. "I had a hero once before..."

America was about to say something, but England swiftly clamped a hand over the younger nation's mouth. He wanted to hear what Wales had to say, considering how rare it was that he spoke of the past.

"I don't remember whom..." Wales's voice seemed to have gotten softer. "I wonder what happened to him... Oh well."

England something wet on his hand and quickly pulled it away, choosing to smack America in response. "Wanker!" he hissed, "You licked me!"

"At least I didn't bite you," America muttered.

The Englishman scowled and wiped his hand on his slacks, quickening his pace to catch up with Wales and try to ditch America. The American shoved his hands into his bomber jacket and pouted.

"How much longer do we have to walk?" he whined. "Isn't there a shortcut we can take?"

"Always stay on the path," Wales replied. "Scotland says so. Always stay on the path."

"Why?"

Wales glanced at America and blinked a few times, seeming confused. England held his breath, knowing better than to question such quirks about Wales. Why was America seemingly aiming to remind Wales of the past and break him into a panic attack once more? Luckily, the sedation spell took effect once more and Wales relaxed.

"I don't know," he answered. "I think I did once... Then something bad happened. Hmm." He turned away once more and continued on.

England took that opportunity to smack America again. "Stop that!" he whispered, "You clearly don't know when to say what to Wales, so just stop talking."

America rubbed the side of his arm and furrowed his brows. "But Iggy..."

"No. Stop it. This is MY brother and I don't want to see him hurt." England frowned and looked away. "Not again, at least..."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..." America sighed and shook his head. "But he better have food when we get to his place. I'm starving."

...

Some hero America was... As soon as he finished eating the food Wales gave him, he fell asleep on the sofa. That left England to watch over Wales. The two were discussing matters over tea at the moment.

"Personally, I'm not too worried," England admitted. "We haven't seen Russia once yet, so perhaps he will not try anything. I believe his flight will be leaving in an hour or two anyway, so we won't have to worry about him for a while."

"Then why are you here?" Wales giggled, "Did you forget that most of the world is at your house right now?"

"Ugh, don't remind me..." England sighed and rolled his eyes. "I honestly don't know what's wrong with that lad, inviting people to MY property without MY permission. I'm only still here because I want to avoid whatever may happen with so many drunk nations." He paused for a moment to sip his tea and then realized what he had just said. "Not that I don't like spending time with you... But you seem a tad tired and I wouldn't want to bother you without reason."

"Hmm." Wales continued to smile blankly. "Have you seen Goch? He doesn't seem to be here and I haven't seen him since I sent you some food earlier today."

"He flew off after he delivered the food... Thank you for that, by the way... But I haven't seen him since." England frowned in concern. "Should we be worried?"

"I wouldn't be. He probably is just out hunting small mammals again."

"You remembered to tell him to go after grey squirrels and not red squirrels, correct?"

"Yes, England." Wales giggled. "Of course, England, just like you told me to over the past few years... But he's a dragon. He'll do what he wants." The Welshman yawned and checked the clock. "Hmm... It's very late. Are you planning on staying the night, little brother?"

"If you don't mind," England answered. "Though I was planning on staying up a tad longer. I'll find my own way to the guest room if you'd like to go ahead and sleep."

"Alright..." Wales leaned over and pulled England into a quick hug. "If you're awake when Goch gets here, please let him in. If not, then he'll just wake one of us up to let him in. Good night, England."

"Good night, Wales." England kept a close eye on his brother as he left the room. What could Russia's possible interest in Wales be...? At least Wales didn't seem too concerned with it. Then again, the sedation spell was strong and had lasted for a few centuries now. That changed Wales's personality for the worse and he couldn't tell why Scotland never bothered to remove it. Damn manipulative wanker... What was he trying to accomplish with that...?

A few minutes later, he was getting ready for bed, thankful that he kept spare things in Wales's house for such an instance where he spent the night. He decided to check on his brother, just in case, and quietly peeked into Wales's bedroom. His older brother was safe and sleeping. He knew he had nothing to worry about. Smiling, he was about to close the door and go to bed. However, he noticed an odd shadow move across the floor while he was pulling the door shut. He faked walking away and then listened at the door.

"...mrade Wales. I came back like I promised, da?"

Eyes suddenly wide, England thought quickly of what to do. Should he get America? Should he burst in and face Russia himself? He knew he would just waste time by trying to wake America up, so he slammed the door open. "Get away from my brother, Russia!"

Russia turned to face him, frown dead set on his face. "Nyet. And England should not be so loud, da? He will wake Comrade Wales."

England scowled and reached for his wand. "I'll show you loud! I have no idea what you want with Wales, but you can't have him!"

"Oh, little England, isn't it clear?" Russia smiled and quickly snatched away England's wand just as soon as he got it out. He threw it away and the wand ended up crashing through the window and landing somewhere outside. The larger nation continued to smile, his usual dark aura engulfing him. "I want my friend back."

"What...?" The Englishman frowned in concern, not understanding why Russia sounded so sincere and desperate. "You can't possibly mean Wales. You have to be confused about this..." He glared at Russia. "Just leave! How did you even get in Wales's room in the first place?"

Russia grinned and stepped closer to Wales. "Does England want to see...?" Before England had a chance to respond, Russia picked up the sleeping Wales and disappeared from the room with a loud crack.

England stared in shock, trying to comprehend what had happened. When he finally realized, he cried out in aggravation. What was he supposed to do now? He groaned and looked to the window where his wand was thrown out. He saw a flash of red and the glowing tip of his wand and suddenly knew what he was supposed to do next.

...

**A/N:** This will be my last post before Christmas, so Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate it! May Santa-Finland bring you lots of good gifts! Thanks to **koPieKing** and **Aurora rose1001** for reviewing! And, thanks to everyone who added this story to their alert!


	10. Chapter 10

Part Four

10

Wales felt something warm against him and he tried to figure out what it was. It was large, larger than him, and something about it seemed familiar... A body...? His own body seized up for a moment in worry but he soon felt a familiar muddle take over his mind, causing him to relax. He slowly opened his eyes to the sight of a fellow nation's face. Russia... The larger nation had his scarf wrapped around both their necks and was holding him close. This was very odd, but not necessarily a bad thing. It wasn't like he was being hurt, right? Though... Didn't England say something about Russia before...? He started to worry again but once more his thoughts blurred and he could no longer concentrate. Instead, he slipped out of Russia's scarf and attempted to escape his hold, but Russia's grip tightened.

Russia blinked his eyes open and then smiled at Wales, sitting up and pulling the smaller nation up with him. "Ah, Comrade Wales. You are awake!"

"Hello, Russia," Wales greeted calmly, casually glancing around the room. This was obviously not the Welshman's bedroom. "Where are we...?"

"Home," Russia answered, taking Wales's hand in his own. "Does Comrade Gavin remember my promise...?"

"Hmm...?" Wales blinked a few times, unsure why they were using their human names. "What promise, Ivan...?"

Russia frowned then. "No. Not 'eye-vin'. Say it like you used to."

"I'm not quite sure what you mean," Wales answered, trying to smile despite Russia's grip becoming tighter. He was starting to become afraid and the haze that normally overtook his mind when he got like that was having trouble forming completely. Russia's grip and that dark aura filled stare the larger nation was giving him kept snapping him back to fear just as soon as the haze tried to calm him down.

"Please be remembering, Comrade," Russia said, intensifying his gaze. "When we first met... When I saved you... When we taught each other... My promises... Я тебя люблю..."

Wales quivered and stared back at Russia, on the verge of tears. There was something wrong here and he couldn't figure out what. Not with this haze attempting to overtake his mind. He never questioned the haze before, but it was starting to give him a headache. He managed to wrench his hand away from Russia and then gripped his head in his palms. What was causing this cloud on his mind? He could literally feel something attempting to bubble up beneath it. Was there something he was supposed to remember...? Maybe he could remember if only he could get that cloudy blur away from him. He needed to end this spell. ...Spell? ...Finite Incantatum?

The smaller nation's eyes widened sharply before closing as he collapsed forward. Luckily, Russia was there to catch him. He breathed heavily and gripped Russia's coat sleeve. His head was hurting more than before, but he had a feeling it would stop just as his mind stopped racing. After all, there were years of repressed memories he was now facing.

He had a horrible feeling that this would end up badly for at least one person...

...

England raced back to his home, not caring that he was leaving America behind, with Goch flying at his side. He could hear America's shouts for him to wait, but it wasn't like he was going to listen to a damn wanker who couldn't even keep his promise about protecting his dear older brother. He dreaded to think what Russia might do to him...

He finally got back home only to find it a mess and with a few drunken nations passed out on his grass. Luckily, most of the other nations seemed to have left, and luckier still, his brothers were still there. He rushed over to them, not caring what or whom he stepped on. "Wake up! Wake up! Wales needs help!"

The Irelands got up first, which was expected since Scotland was an extremely heavy sleeper when drunk. Eire glared at England, though it was hidden behind a narrow squint, and North stared at Goch, trying to comprehend the sight of the red dragon.

"What are ya talkin' about?" Eire mumbled. "Where's Wales?"

"He was kidnapped!"

"Ack! Not so loud!" North complained, not seeming to notice that he was just as loud. "Who would kidnap that lump of wool?"

"Russia, that's whom," England answered back.

"Russia?" North repeated, clearly disbelieving that thought. "What would he want with Wales?"

There was a snort from Scotland and the other three stared at their eldest brother, waiting for to see if he would wake up. Scotland stayed asleep and picked up snoring again, so England continued to talk.

"I'm not entirely sure why the wanker wants anything to do with our brother..." England frowned and hesitated over what he was to say next. "But, when I asked... He said that he 'wanted his friend back.'"

"Friend?" Eire scoffed. "Wales has no friends unless ya count the animals around here."

"I'm just quoting what Russia said," England snapped in response. "Don't blame me if it doesn't make sense. It also didn't make sense why Russia was saying no one is better than Wales at magic. Clearly, Russia is very confused."

"Russia knows about magic...?" North raised his brow. "Since when?"

"Well, he does know how to curse..." England sighed and frowned. "He really is a demon of a nation... But what are we going to do about Wales?"

"Wait..." Eire sat up straighter and stared at England. "Say that again?"

"What are we going to-?"

"No, the one before."

"Russia is a demon of a nation...?"

"Aye! And ya said Russia called Wales his friend? And he somehow knows about Wales's magic?"

"Well..." England furrowed his brow. "Yes, but what are you trying to say?"

"Ya brat..." Ireland hissed out. "Do ya not remember when Wales's wand was broke? Why it was broke?"

England blinked a few times, trying to think way back to that day. Once the realization hit, his skin paled and his eyes widened. "No... That was... That was HIM?"

"Who?" North asked, with a frown. "What are ya talkin' about?"

"Scotland!" Eire smacked his older brother, choosing to ignore his twin. "Scotland, wake up! We have a problem!" When the Scotsman didn't respond, Eire looked to Goch. The dragon blew a small flame at Scotland, catching his hand.

Scotland snorted again and shot up, blinking blearily. "Whit? Whit did England set fire this time?"

"I did no such...!" England shook his head, remembering to stay focus. "It's Wales. Russia kidnapped him."

Scotland stared at England for a long moment before narrowing his eyes, voice just above a harsh whisper. "How did that demon remember?" He didn't wait for an answer and stood up. "C'mon. We hae tae save our dunderheid o' a brother."

...

**A/N:** And now we make it to Part Four... Thanks to **Aurora rose1001** for reviewing and to **Tariono4ka** for adding this story to their favorites!


	11. Chapter 11

11

"Russia... RussiaRussiaRussia! Y-Yvonne!" Wales let out a sob and buried his face into Russia's scarf. "Oh, it's been so long...! Did my song work? Did you hear it? Did it help you remember?"

"Comrade Gavin..." Russia squeezed the smaller nation in a hug and smiled. "Da, it worked. I heard it the night we were separated. I remembered some, but little England helped me remember more."

"What? How?"

"He tried to sing your song as well..." Russia frowned then and tilted his head to the side. "And he tried to call me up using your spell, but I think he did it wrong. And he tried to use your curses, but I made sure to stop him like I promised."

"Oh! I forgotten you made that promise!" Wales frowned as well and furrowed his brow. "But how does HE know them? He should know better than to use them! Oh, that brat is going to be in so much trouble...!" He paused in his rant and then looked into Russia's eyes, smiling and leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the lips. "Thank you, Russia. Thank you so much..."

"I told you," Russia answered, leaning his forehead against Wales's. "Scotland was silly to think he could keep me from you." The larger nation frowned then and pulled Wales against his chest. "He hurt you... You were not yourself for a while..."

Wales sighed and curled up a little. "Y-you mean the sedation spell Scotland and Ireland used...? I don't know... I was really panicking when three of my curses were labeled as Unforgivable. I still wonder how they were found out, but I am starting to think England's to blame. Y-You're right, though, they shouldn't have kept me under it for so long... Thank you for helping me break it... Oh, Yvonne... Rwy'n dy garu di..."

"Я люблю тебя тоже," Russia answered, smiling widely. "And now that Comrade and I back together, we can finally live together like we planned. We can be wed and live happy lives with sunflowers and daffodils. Become one, da?"

The peridot-eyed nation stared, silent and nervous. "...No."

Russia blinked in surprise and looked down at Wales. He began to frown and tightened his grip. "What does Comrade mean by 'No'? Is Comrade still under spell by Scotland?"

"N-No, I'm not..." Wales squirmed, trying to regain comfort in Russia's too-tight hold. "B-But, Russia... We're older now and the world is much different than it was before... I know what it means for us to live together and be married, and I just can't do that... I love you, I really do, but we can't live together, we can't marry..." He bit his lip and quivered, daring to look up at the violet-eyed man. "We can't become one."

Russia said nothing aside from the familiar chant of "kolkolkol." His evil aura was thickening, becoming darker than it ever was before. He refused to look down at Wales and instead stared straight ahead and clutched the smaller nation so close that it was almost like he was trying to break him in half.

"R-Russia...!" Wales began to tear up and he choked on a whimper. "Yvonne, you're hurting me!"

Russia looked down at Wales. "Da. I will stop once you say you are mine again."

"B-But we ARE friends! R-Right...?"

"Nyet. Not my friend. MINE." Russia pulled Wales up, forcing their lips together. "I was Comrade's hero once..." he mumbled before pressing another bruising kiss against Wales's lips. "I taught Comrade what I knew..." Another forced kiss. "I protected Comrade..." He gripped Wales's shoulders and looked into his timid eyes which were shiny from tears. "I worked hard to have you back! Why can I not have what I did before?"

"I'm sorry!" Wales cried, choking on his tears. "I'm sorry! I still love you! I just...!" He hiccupped and cried harder. "I can't be with you how you want!"

"Why not?" Russia demanded through clenched teeth. "What is stopping Comrade Gavin?"

"Sc-Scotland said-!"

Russia didn't let Wales finish his sentence and dropped him onto the bed. He stood up, towering over the quivering nation, and gave him a smile. Though the smile was trying to wear a mask of innocence, it clearly screamed murder and hate. "Oh... Your brother, hmm? He should know that it is not nice to be keeping me from what I want. I will go... Talk to him... And then you can be mine again, da...?" Russia giggled and patted Wales on the head, a little too harshly. He then hurried out of the room, locking the door behind him.

Wales began pounding at the door, begging for Russia to leave Scotland alone.

The pleas fell on deaf ears.

...

Scotland frowned at the sudden chill he felt. He turned towards his younger brothers, Goch, and America who had just shown up. "Alright, A'll make this quick. Russia is a demon who Wales summoned years ago like the dunderheid he is. A tried me best tae keep them from rememberin' this so that nothin' like this would happen. A know that by now, the sedation spell on Wales is broken, but A dinnae know how willingly he is staying wit Russia. Either way, we're breakin' in and getting Wales back. Ye got yer wands?"

Eire, North, and England pulled out their wands. Scotland stared at England's.

"...Ye got a star on the end of yers."

"Ahaha..." England hid his wand behind his back and glanced up at the sky to avoid further embarrassment.

America raised his hand then. "So, uh... I'm not going to need a wand for this, am I?"

"Eh... Jist tae get there." Scotland tossed a length of wood towards the American. "Hold on tae that but dinnae try tae use it. It was gonna be Wales's new wand, but A never gave it tae him."

"You actually got Wales a new wand?" England asked. "You carry it around with you?"

"Oi! Dinnae ask stupid questions!" Scotland snorted and then looked at Ireland. "Figure oot where Wales and Russia are."

Ireland nodded and said the words to cast a locator spell. A small cloud flowed from the tip of his wand and swirled into a circle. Inside the circle were two images, one of Russia and one of Wales in their current locations. Ignoring America's impressed exclamations, Ireland commented on the given information. "Looks like Wales is locked in Russia's house. Russ is in his office... Trying ta track us down...?"

"What? Let me see." North pushed Eire out of the way for a better look into the cloud. "Oi! Yar right! Is Russ after us now too?"

"Told ya," America muttered. England then shot him a glare and he became quiet.

Scotland furrowed his brow and grunted. "Well, if the demon wants to find us, then we'll go tae him! All the faster tae kick his arse and git Wales back. Ready?" There was a collective agreement. "Guid. Goch, ride wit me."

The dragon landed on Scotland's shoulder. They all ignored America's confused look and question of "Who?"

"America, hang on to England," Scotland commanded. "On the count o three. One... Two... Three!"

There was a large crack and a moment later, Scotland regained his footing just outside the fence surrounding Russia's house. A few moments later, the Irelands, England, and America landed nearby.

"Oh, good, we got the right place."

"You git! You forgot to tell us exactly where to meet!"

"Oh, man! I think I'm going to throw up!" America dashed to the side, hiding his sick behind a bush.

England grimaced for a moment and then looked over at Scotland. "So... What is our plan?"

Scotland raised his brow. It should have been obvious, but then again, England was always slow. "We break in. We beat up whoever we find. We find Wales. Beat him up. And leave."

The Irelands nodded in agreement and England scoffed.

"Are you daft? That's a horrible plan! We can't just beat up the person we're supposed to rescue! And what if we find Ukraine or Belarus first? Do we beat those two up?"

"Naw! Now who's the daft one? Of course we dinnae beat up the women!" Scotland rolled his eyes. "But A guess yer right. Maybe... So, instead we'll break in, ye, America, and Goch will look fer Wales. A, Eire, and North will find Russia and obliviate him again, fer guid this time. Better?"

North shrugged. "Liked the first one better."

"Aye," Ireland agreed.

Goch nodded and England sighed.

"Not you too, Goch..." England looked over at America. "Are you better now?"

"Almost!" America called from the bush. "Ugh, I'm so glad its only crappy British food that I'm wasting. If it was the barbecue, I'd be upset..."

"You brat," England scowled, "You said Wales's food was good when you ate it!"

"...Oh, yeah! That's right! It WASN'T your cooking!" There was a small pause. "Aw, man! That food actually wasn't so bad and now it's wasted! Thanks a lot, Iggy!"

The Irelands smirked and Scotland glared at them to get their focus back on the matter at hand. America soon came back from behind the bushes, and stood next to England. Scotland had Goch go over to England's shoulders and then turned, blasting a hole in the locked gate using his wand.

"I guess we're NOT being sneaky about this," England commented.

"Quiet, runt!" Scotland glared and walked through the hole in the fence. "C'mon, A want tae git this over wit as soon as possible..."

...

Wales had long since given up banging on the door and resorted to collapsing against it, crying his eyes out. Where had things gone wrong? When he refused to give Russia what he wanted? When he sang that song to cause Russia to remember? When he made the curses? Or, when he called Russia up for the first time and started this whole drama? Either way, he was stuck in Russia's house, the door was locked, and there was no telling what Russia would do to Scotland. Even if his older brother was adept at defending himself against the dark arts, who knew how much better Russia was AT the dark arts?

There had to be something he could do... Anything. Perhaps there was some way he could warn Scotland to stay away from Russia. ...No, that was stupid. Wales never finished his magical training, he was centuries out of practice, and he didn't even have a wand. He couldn't help Scotland if he couldn't even cast a single spell.

But... He did cast a spell, didn't he? Yes, that was right... He had used magic to end the spell that was blocking his memory and feelings. After all, he HAD been learning wandless and wordless casting before Russia was forced to leave him. He even kept training himself secretly up to the 1700s. He only stopped because of that... incident...

He sighed for a moment, wondering how his curses managed to get into the hands of humans and whether or not it was England's fault. It certainly wasn't HIS fault that the humans got a hold of them, but it was his fault that the curses existed in the first place, and he couldn't forgive himself for that. But, that didn't matter right now. He had to get to the manner at hand.

"What was that spell...?" he mumbled. "To unlock doors...? Alo... Aloha... Alohamora."

Well, that was the spell, but, of course, the door seemed impervious to it. Maybe there was another spell he could try.

"Annihilare." No. "Liberare." Still nothing. "Emancipare." Getting there. "Dunamis." Okay, that was enough making up words. He wasn't going to get anywhere with made-up spells.

"What, did Russia install doors that are impervious to unlocking because of Belarus or something?" Wales sighed and shook his head. "Actually, that's probably true... But what do I do...?" He glanced down to the doorknob and grabbed it, feeling the metal warm beneath his skin. He willed it to open, focusing as much as possible. Slowly, he could feel the locking mechanism come undone and he was soon able to open the door. Ha, maybe it wasn't so impervious after all!

He opened the door and peeked out into the hallway. There was no one there, as far as he could tell. Slowly, he stepped outside the room, careful not to make any sound. However, a loud blast from outside caused him to jump and he whipped his head towards it. He noticed a window at the end of the hall and rush to it, holding his breath as he looked outside.

"Oh, God, no..." he mumbled. Those idiots! Why were his brothers here? He could only hope that Russia wouldn't notice that-.

"Comrade Gavin is out of his room," came the sickening sweet voice.

Wales cringed and slowly turned around. "H-Hello, Russia... I was just going back to my room..."

"What was Comrade looking at?" Russia pulled Wales aside and kept his hand clamped around his wrists as he looked out the window. "Ah... Your brothers are here. And America, but he is no issue either."

"P-Please, Russia..." Wales whimpered. "Please, don't hurt them. They didn't do anything wrong..."

"Oh, no... They are totally innocent." Russia chuckled. "And that is the worst crime of all..." He turned his cold, violet gaze on the Welshman and smiled. "Let's get you back to your room and then I shall go greet our guests. Especially Scotland."

"Y-Yvonne! Please!"

Russia dragged Wales back to the room he was in before. "And, once Scotland 'leaves,' Comrade won't have anyone stopping him from being with me."

"Russia! I'm begging you!"

"Comrade should save his begging for later," Russia replied, tossing Wales back onto the bed. "For when he is begging to become one with me." He kissed Wales's forehead and giggled. "Now, what should I be doing to keep Comrade Wales from trying to escape again...?"

Wales glanced down to the object now in Russia's hands and paled. He was starting to think that perhaps this wasn't his day.

...

**A/N:** Things are starting to get dramatic around here, it seems. Thanks to **Aurora rose1001** for reviewing and to **Pantomime Banjo** for adding this story to their favorites!


	12. Chapter 12

12

They were inside Russia's house, and considering how loud an entrance Scotland made blasting through both the gate and the front door, England just knew that Russia knew they were there. How could he not? The important question was, how mad would Russia be?

Hopefully, that would be left for Scotland and the Irelands to find out. Hopefully, his search party would only find Wales and not run into the larger nation at all. Luckily, Goch knew how to sniff out his owner and they didn't seem to be running into anyone else just yet.

"How do you know where you're going?" America whispered, though given his volume it could be considered a normal speaking tone. "You're not even bothering to check any of the rooms."

"I already told you, we're following Goch." England couldn't really blame America... The other nation stopped seeing such things years ago. There was supposed to be a moment each year where America could see magical creatures, but now was clearly not that moment.

"Oh, right," America sighed. "Some invisible red dragon that Wales is friends with. Really, Iggy, you and your imaginary friends."

Goch snorted out smoke and England had to give him an apologetic smile. England glared at America. "I'd be careful about what you say right now. Goch is the quickest way for us to find Wales and I rather not have you upset him."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I still don't see why I couldn't be on the team to beat up Russia."

"They're going to do more than that," England answered. "They're planning on obliviating him. Wiping his memory. You'd be useless when it came to... Oh..." He watched Goch claw at a door. "We're here."

"Finally," America sighed, reaching for the door knob. After a few attempts to turn it, he frowned. "It's locked."

"Strange..." England inspected knob. "There doesn't seem to be a key hole. I wonder how it was locked."

"Oh, I know!" America's false enthusiasm gave away his sarcasm. "Maybe it's magic!" He even added wiggly fingers to prove his point.

The Englishman huffed up. "Don't make fun of me boy. I'll show you magic." He pulled out his wand and tapped the star end against the door. "Alohomara."

The wand tip started to flash and England cringed, remembering what the proper incantation was supposed to be in comparison to what he actually said. Goch dived behind America just before there was a small explosion, blasting off part of the door.

England coughed and waved away the smoke, glad to see that they somehow didn't draw Russia's attention.

America laughed. "As awesome as that was, one, that obviously wasn't magic, and two, I thought you WANTED to be sneaky."

"Quiet," England scowled. "At least we can get inside now."

"En-England...?" asked a timid voice from inside the room.

England and America suddenly remembered why they were there and dashed inside, immediately stopping once they saw Wales.

"Dude! You're tied up!" America shouted, causing Wales to blush and England to smack America for the comment.

"Why yes..." Wales answered. "I do seem to be... Now could one of you actually bother to untie me? Hurry, we need to get to Scotland before Russia does!"

"Oh, right. Sure." America nodded and went over, working on untying the ropes around Wales. "What's your hurry to get to Scotland? He can take care of himself, right? He has your other brothers with him, after all."

"That's really not going to help!" Wales cried out. "You don't understand, Russia is...!"

...

"Comfortable, Comrades?"

Scotland and the Irelands had their backs against each other, forming a triangle as they searched around for where Russia was hiding in the darkness. Scotland scowled and narrowed his eyes.

"Whit did ye do tae Wales, demon?"

"It is none of your business what I do with MY things," came the reply. North sent out a spell in the direction he thought it came from, but only here a crash, indicating that he missed.

"He is not yers!" Scotland shouted. "That dunderheid is better off witout ye in his life!"

"Is that why Scotland told Wales he is not to become one with me?" Russia asked. Eire fired off a shot next, but he missed as well.

"A should nae need tae!" Scotland argued. "But wit ye trickin' him intae thinkin' yer friends...!"

"Oh, but Comrade Wales and I WERE friends!" Russia taunted. "We were such good friends. I taught him curses and he taught me how to counteract spells used against me!" Scotland and the Irelands searched frantically for where Russia was. The larger nation continued to talk. "He used to call me his hero. But then Scotland took that ALL away from me. Comrade wanted to be mine, and now he does not. Comrade said that you told him not to be with me. So, if I get rid of you, I can have Comrade Wales all to myself."

Scotland's eyes widened for a moment before he narrowed them once more. "Whit."

"Scotland thinks I am a demon, da?" An arm slipped around Scotland's neck, revealing that Russia was somehow in the middle of their triangle. Scotland tried to pull Russia's arm off of him. Russia merely chuckled darkly. "Then hell must be frozen over."

There was a large crack and Scotland barely got the chance to hear the Irelands call out his name. Scotland's skin pinched up from the sudden cold and he was dropped in the snow. He scrambled to get up, reaching around at the same time for the wand he had dropped. Russia stepped a heavy boot onto his hand.

"Ah-ah..." Russia bent down and picked up the wand. "We are to fight without magic. The winner keeps Wales."

Scotland scowled and tried to pull his hand out from under Russia, but the larger nation only pressed down harder. "A'm nae aboot tae play yer games, demon!"

"Oh? That is too bad." Russia flicked Scotland's wand a few times and then giggled, pointing it at some nearby wood and setting it ablaze. "Then your wand goes into the fire."

"Naw!" Scotland frowned. "Fine, A'll fight!"

"No magic?" Russia asked.

"No magic," Scotland agreed.

"Very good." Russia stepped off of Scotland and then chucked the wand into the flames. He turned towards the shocked Scotland and scowled. "Brothers should fight for their siblings and not magical crutches, da?"

Scotland stood and took a deep breath and then matched Russia's scowl with his own. "Whit are the fighting terms?"

Russia let loose a sinister, slightly crazed grin. "To the death."

The Scot bowed his head but then looked up with a solemn expression. "Fine then."

They circled around each other and then dived at each other, throwing punches and kicked for all they could. As they fought, Russia laughed and sang some song that chilled Scotland's bones more than the snow.

"Flare the tinder up, burn down with this pyre  
>From corner to corner with that hellfire<br>Don't leave a single trace, with everything erase  
>Burn down their souls, let them feel my ire<br>Flare the tinder up, burn down with this pyre  
>Heed my calling, answer my choir<br>Burn down those fools, that is what I proclaim  
>Cause their destruction with a crimson flame..."<p>

...

"Where's Scotland?" England demanded as soon as they found the Irelands. The two were just stumbling out of the dark and jumped in surprise at the Englishman's voice.

"Can't answer that," North admitted.

"Russ took him away somewhere," Eire continued.

Wales's eyes teared up. "Oh God! He's going to kill him! He's going to kill him!"

"Oh, ya found Wales," Eire said with a flattened brow. "And someone knocked off the sedation spell."

"And don't you dare put it back on," England commanded. "It is imperative that we find Russia and Scotland as soon as possible. Russia is trying to kill Scotland, thinking that it will allow him to be with Wales."

"Yeah, you should have seen how Russia had Wales when we found- OW!" America rubbed his arm where Wales had hit him. "Dude, I think I liked you better sedated."

"Oh, quiet!" Wales ordered in response. "This is a serious matter!"

"Eire," England spoke up again. "Could you use a locator spell to find Russia and Scotland?"

"Aye, but I won't be able ta tell ya exactly where they are unless I recognize the area." Ireland preformed the same spell as before and a cloud emerged from his wand again. Inside the middle of it was the image of Russia and Scotland fighting. Everyone winced from the blood and bruises they could see on the two, Scotland in particular. "Sorry, mate, nothin' but snow is not the best landmark." Ireland was about to dissipate the cloud and image, but Wales grabbed a hold of his arm and stopped him.

Wales stared at the fire in the background of the image, muttering something to himself. "Flare the tinder up... Burn down with this pyre... Oh, God, Russia's singing it..."

"Singin' what?" North asked. "Ya know, I don't think I like you without the sedation either."

"From corner to corner with that hellfire?" England asked. "You sang that song before, when we were younger... I never figure out what it was for."

"It was a message to Russia," Wales paled. "To help him remember me and find me again... I... I think it's working in reverse... I think I know where they are."

"Well, if it's the best we got, I say we go wit it," North nodded.

Eire shook his head. "Naw, we can't. Wales never learned tae apparate. He wouldn't be able to go."

"How hard can it be?" Wales asked. "I can do it. I'm sure."

"Ya haven't even held a wand in years..."

England looked up at that and then elbowed America. "Give Wales his wand."

"Oh, right!" America pulled out the wand from his jacket and held it out for Wales to take. Wales stared at it for a moment and then shook his head.

"No, you hold onto it for now," Wales insisted. "I'm sure I can do this."

"Yar a bit too over-confident," North replied with a raised brow. "No one can apparate without a wand."

Wales frowned and stared for a few seconds. He turned away for a moment. "Goch?" He called the dragon over and then held Goch in his arms. A moment later, he disappeared with a loud crack and reappeared across the room.

"Oi!" Eire's eyes widened and North and England nodded in agreement with his sentiment. "How'd ya do that? Without splinching!"

America pocketed the wand again and sighed. "Not that I believe in magic... But didn't Russia say that no one is better at it than Wales?"

"You think I hadn't practice after Scotland snapped my wand in half?" Wales asked. "I only stopped once you put the sedation spell on me. And, for apparating, Goch has more magical energy being a full dragon than just what there is for a wand, so it's easier. Now, please, stop gawking and let's get to Scotland before it's too late!"

"Can we get all five of us there with you alone apparating and the rest of us going side-along?" England asked, sounding unsure.

Wales paused to think about this and then frowned. "Maybe I should point out where to go on a map..."

...

Scotland breathed heavily and tried to fight past his shivering to block Russia's attacks. The Russian seemed to be growing tired, or perhaps just bored. He took another punch to the stomach and staggered back before collapsing. Usually he was a better fighter than this, but usually he wasn't fighting in snow, while stressed, and still partially drunk. After all, he didn't really get much time to sleep off all the alcohol he drank earlier.

Russia towered over him and looked down with a smile. "Come now, Scotland. This cannot be all that you can do against me. We are to fight to death, and you do not seem to be trying."

"We're nations," Scotland grumbled out. "We don't die like this. We die when our people stop identifying with us."

"Then..." There was a pause and Scotland glanced up to see Russia pull out his pipe. "I will have a fun, LONG time beating you to your death."

Scotland held his breath and braced himself for what was to come. The pain he was expecting never showed up and instead he cracked open his blackened eyes in time to see a bright green light knock Russia's pipe out of his hand, sending it flying a few yards away.

"Это что такое?" Russia asked, glancing behind him. To both the Russian's and the Scot's surprise, the Irelands were charging down towards Russia.

Russia frowned, but called up his evil aura, focusing the fight on the two newcomers. Meanwhile, Scotland managed to crawl away a short distance before Goch swooped in and helped him escape to behind a snowbank where England, America, and Wales were hiding.

Scotland stared at Wales for a few seconds. "Ye dunderheid."

Wales eyes filled with tears and he hugged him, being careful not to cause him any more pain than he was already in. "I know... I'm sorry..."

"Why aren't you using your wand?" England asked.

"He burned it..." Scotland muttered. "Made me fight witout magic... Dammit, A normally do better than this..."

England looked up at Wales. "Gavin... I need to know for sure... Are you ever planning on using a wand again?"

Wales sniffled and wiped his tears. "N-No... I'm not..."

"America, give Scotland the wand you have."

"I dunno, man, I kinda grew attached-."

"AMERICA."

"Sheesh! Fine! I was just kidding!" America pulled the wand out again and handed it over to Scotland.

Scotland took the wand and gripped it tightly. "Whit guid is that gonna do?" he muttered, eyes fluttering shut.

"Don't fall asleep!" Wales shouted, grabbing hold of Scotland's free hand. "That's a bad thing to do! E-England!" He looked up at his younger brother. "Go back home and bring back the angel hair restorative potion."

England's eyes widened in shock. "But... But that's supposed to only be used on unicorns because it's too strong for humans!"

"Well, we aren't human, are we?" Wales argued. "Hurry, Scotland needs the strongest medicine we can get him right now." He peeked up over the snowbank. "And the Irelands need back-up as soon as possible."

England stared for a moment longer and then nodded, disappearing with a loud crack. Wales looked at Goch who then crawled onto Scotland's stomach to keep him warm.

"Please stay awake, Scotland..."

"Aye..." The Scot mumbled.

America frowned and looked at Wales. "I still don't really get it. Why is Russia so interested in you in the first place?"

Wales winced and hesitated before answering the question. "It was years ago. I don't remember when or how old I was at the time... But I was upset because Scotland and Ireland were bullying me about hugging a sheep, so I tried to summon a demon to get back at them and show them up."

"Whit...?" Scotland muttered. "That was why...?"

"The demon I summoned was Russia and I realized he was a nation and we began talking and I showed him around my lands... He made me realize that I should be nicer to my brothers instead of getting upset with them or beating them up in the case of England... I sent him home and promised to call him back later, and he always showed up when I summoned him if he wanted to visit. Of course, he always wanted to visit...

"I remember... One day he saved me from being attacked... I called him my hero and we told each other our human names... He began to teach me the dark arts and I taught him how to counteract spells-."

"Like he's doing now with your brothers?" America interrupted.

Wales nodded. "Yes. Then, later on, we admitted to loving each other..."

"Ye loved the demon...?" Scotland asked. "He couldnae hae loved ye back... He had tae be lyin'..."

"He wasn't..." Wales began to tear up again. "He couldn't have been. But that was why I was so devastated when you sent him away! I did what I could to help him remember me but then I had to stop when you sedated me. But he found me anyway, like he promised to! And I told him that I couldn't become one with him like he wanted! And he thinks that if he kills you, he can do what he wants with me and... and...!" Wales began to cry again. "Oh, Scotland! Why do you always have to be right?"

"Dude," America raised his brow. "You don't still like him, do you? Russia's evil. I mean, really, he has an evil aura and everything. Are you stupid or something?"

"Aye," Scotland answered. "He is."

Wales pouted, wiping away his tears, and opened his mouth to say something. He was interrupted by a pop. England hurried up to them and handed a small clay jar to Wales.

"You need to label these," England scolded. "I would have found it faster if I knew what was in that jar."

The Welshman sighed and inspected the potion. He poured a small amount of the liquid into the lid and held the lid to Scotland's lips. "Drink this..."

Scotland did as he was told and almost immediately seized up after. He cried out from further pain as his body forced bones back in place, skin to regrow to cover cuts, and bruises to yellow and then disappear. After the initial pain, his body started to relax from the pleasantness of sore muscles clearing up, his cold body warming up, and his tiredness going away, leaving him feeling rested and awake. He pushed himself up and Goch crawled off of his stomach.

"America," Scotland looked to the younger nation. "Yer with me. England, stay with Wales and Goch. We're ending this here."

...

North was thrown back and landed in the snow. Eire was distracted making sure his twin was alright and didn't see Russia in time. Eire was then thrown as well, landing next to North. The Irelands helped each other to sit up and then cowered under Russia's form.

Russia rubbed the side of his pipe, smiling enthusiastically. "This was fun distraction. But, now to end you so I can end Scotland." He raised his pipe up, but stopped from bringing it down when he was hit in the back of the head by something cold.

"A snowball?" America shouted. Russia turned to face the idiot American and Scotland. "You threw a SNOWBALL? What happened to your magic thing?"

Scotland stared right into Russia's eyes. "A said A'd do this witout magic. A intend tae keep it that way."

Russia giggled. "Oh, good. But, first I will be taking care of these two." He turned towards the Irelands again, the two of which seemed to be trying to escape.

"Oi!" Scotland threw yet another snowball at Russia. "Ye stay away from me brothers!"

The Russian frowned a little and wiped off the snow. "You will defend these two but not Comrade Wales?"

"Wales isn't here, demon! Yer fight's wit the rest o us!"

"Oh, but four against one is not fair..." Russia giggled. "Even if you don't have a wand..."

Scotland scowled. "When ye try tae hurt my brother Wales, everythin' else is fair."

Russia giggled again. "Your brother, hmm? Have you been tricking Comrade Wales, Scotland? Making him think you care?"

Scotland scowled. "I do care. America! Do what I told you!"

America nodded and charged at Russia. Russia tried to side-step out of the way, but America seemed to be expecting that and grabbed onto Russia, dragging him to the ground. The two of them began fighting for dominance, trying to pin the other down.

"Eire!" Scotland shouted. "Ye have the best aim! Russia can deflect yer spells normally, but try tae get him while he's distracted."

Eire aimed his wand and shouted, "Immobulus!"

Russia was hit and froze in place. He immediately started to fight against the spell. America jumped off of him. Scotland shouted at North next.

"Quick! Tie him up!"

"Incarcerous!" North exclaimed. Ropes shot from the end of his wand and tied themselves around Russia.

Scotland went up to the larger nation. Even if he was able to break through the Immobulus spell, it would be harder for Russia to counteract a magically-made, physical object, even with his immense strength. He paused in front of the larger nation, frowning. "Ye used to love me brother."

Russia struggled against his bonds, but gave up after the question was asked. He looked up at Scotland and nodded. "Da."

"Whit happened?"

"Scotland took Comrade Wales away."

"So ye kidnap him and try tae force yerself wit him."

Russia said nothing.

Scotland scoffed. "Some hero ye are."

That was when Russia did something that caught everyone off guard. His eyes began to water and tears started to flow down his face. "I just wanted my friend back..." he whispered.

"Dude..." America muttered. The Irelands nodded in agreement.

Scotland frowned and pulled out his wand. "Obliviate Permanens!" Russia was hit point-blank with the spell and Scotland called out yet another soon after. "Dormio." With that spell, Russia fell into a deep sleep. The Scotsman held his stance for a moment and then relaxed. "Eire. North. Take him back to his house." He turned and walked away, leaving the Irelands to their task. America followed him back to the snowbank where Wales was curled around Goch, crying, with England rubbing his back to comfort him. "C'mon then. Let's git home. It's finally done..."

...

**A/N: **"It's finally done..." Only... It isn't... Stay tuned for one final chapter. Thank you to **Aurora rose1001** for reviewing and to **PotatoLord** and **citrine sunflower** for adding this story to their favorites!


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

13

"You know what he was planning to do with you once he killed Scotland."

"I know..."

"He was going to hurt you in the worst way possible. Do you still care about him...?"

Wales gave a soft smile in his younger brother's direction. "You never quite forget your first love..."

England sighed. "I realize that... But perhaps you should at least let it go. It won't be healthy for you to continue to dwell on it."

"I know..."

"And..." England took Wales's hand and patted it. "And I want to let you know, I'm glad to have you back like this... Please, if you continue to think of him, you'll grow hysterical once more... And I don't want you to have to be like... like THAT again... Under their spells..."

The Welshman giggled and smiled. "Oh, little brother... That's sweet of you... But tell me... How exactly do you know my old curses? How is it that they were revealed to humans?"

The Englishman flinched and pulled away. "Oh, Lord, Wales... I'm sorry... I... I copied them before they were burned and I was irresponsible and left them out for humans to see and... Don't worry too much, I never managed to get them to work at least."

Wales continued to smile. "Don't worry about it, England. I'm not mad."

"Oh, thank goodness..." England breathed out a sigh of relief.

"However, Scotland is."

"Urk!" England froze at the hand that landed on his shoulder and he looked up to see Scotland glaring down at him.

Scotland pushed England out of the chair and then took it for himself. "Runt, go make some tea."

"But, Scotland, I..."

"Now, ye brat!" The Scot waited for England to leave the room and then focused his attention on Wales. "...How are ye feelin'?"

"Fine..." Wales sighed. "Only fine... I have been better... Don't worry, I'll improve with time..."

Scotland lowered his gaze, looking away from Wales. "Ye miss him."

"...Yes. I do." Wales whimpered and clasped his hands together, pleading. "Please, I'll behave! I won't try to make him remember me again, I won't let him get close to me so he won't try to hurt me again, just let me remember what friendship we had when we were younger, at the very least-!"

"Pipe down!" Scotland barked, looking up at Wales with a soft glare. "A'm not gonna make ye forgit a thing."

"Then..." The younger of the two furrowed his brow in confusion. "Then why are you bringing it up...?"

"He really did love ye..." Scotland sighed. "He jist didnae want tae hae tae give ye up. He and ye... Ye both jist wanted friends and A took that away..." He frowned and crossed his arms. "Mind, yer still an eejit for tryin' tae summon a demon and makin' curses in the first place."

Wales curled in a little, submissively. "I... I realize that..."

Scotland sighed and shook his head. "Sit up, Gav. A wanted to tell ye sumthin aboot him..." He paused for a moment to make sure Wales was listening. "A wiped his memory o ye again, includin' whit he tried tae do tae ye. He will nae remember ye for the most part, but it's not perfect. He'll still know that he had ye as a friend before, but he will nae remember who ye are." He hesitated and looked at Wales's curious gaze. "If ye were wantin' tae... Try tae be friends wit him again... A will nae stop ye, at least. Eh, as long as he doesnae try tae hurt ye or 'become one' wit ye, o course."

"R-Really?" Wales asked, eyes wide. "You mean it...?"

"J-Jist dinnae do anythin' stupid this time!"

"Oh! Thank you, Scotland!" Wales pulled the Scotsman into a hug. "Thank you... I don't tell you this enough, but you are a wonderful brother."

Scotland sighed but then hugged his brother back. "Yer welcome... Try not tae git hurt this time... And go send England back in. A have tae tell him off fer usin' those curses."

Wales nodded and hurried out of the room. Scotland sighed yet again.

"It's done..." he muttered, "It's finally done."

**A/N:** And, we have reached the end! This was a good run, I'd say, and I hope you guys enjoyed it! Thanks to **Aurora rose1001** for reviewing!


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